


Someone To Say ‘I Love You’

by Lokesenna



Category: British Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Norse Religion & Lore, Thor (Movies)
Genre: After Loki's fall, Alternate Universe - Real World, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Marvel Norse Lore, Slow Build, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2017-12-04 06:41:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/707721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lokesenna/pseuds/Lokesenna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki realises the only person that seems to understand him is the one that put himself in his shoes - quite literally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Real Thing

**Author's Note:**

> _“If somebody could say something, the right thing, to make him feel kind of emotionally and spiritually at ease that he didn’t maybe have such a painful ax to grind. Maybe just somebody to say ‘I love you’, that would have been nice.”_  
>  -Tom Hiddleston on Loki.
> 
> (Set in Tom's world - the real world - and so even though I used Tom's portrayal of Loki he is very much based on Norse Mythology, not Marvel. Avengers did not happen and do not exist in this universe.)
> 
> Based on [PrancerLoon](http://www.twitter.com/PrancerLoon) & [PrincelySecrets](http://www.twitter.com/PrincelySecrets) on Twitter.

* * *

 

    Loki’s eyes follow the man from a distance, head tilted with deep curiosity.

    Quite some time had he now spent on Midgard, and… naturally… these mortals, so enslaved to their entertainment, had felt the need to immortalize his fictional deeds on… _film_ , was it?

    Yes.

    Loki had refused to watch these moving portraits at first, but eventually the itch had gotten too strong and he had gotten his hands on one of the disks – to his displeasure a tale of his brother’s victories, and even if most of it had been untrue – Thor had never set foot on Midgard as far as he is aware – the depiction of him had been less awful as he had expected.

    He had expected the _worst… -_ how could anyone do one such as him justice? – instead he watches a performance so real and moving that he’d had to pause and walk away several times.

    How could a _mortal_ know him to such depths that he could show the same fear, the same pain he had felt in in one expression while the rest of the realms thought him a mindless beast, or merely the foolish little trickster brother of Thor?

    He had to find him.

    He had to _know._

    The god stands stoically, Iceland’s weather does not phase him in these garments, leather twined with protective magic and his skin as pale as the snow his boots are dug into.

    Emerald hues follow the man… Hiddleston… _Thomas_ … a weary human, heading back to one of the many trailers these pitiful play-acting mortals used for accomodation. The god clenches his jaws with determination and blinks out of existence, appearing moments later in the trailer that man had been heading to. One quick glance around tells Loki all he needs to know. A half unpacked suitcase, a large bed, the entertainment screen… definite living quarters for the human.

    Loki grunts and looks over to the door as he hears the man’s footsteps draw closer. _Oooh, this ought to be good_.

    The trickster turns his back, hands folding in a seemingly relaxed manner behind his back, eyes fixed at the snowy field outside the window. _Come now, mortal… enter…_

 

 *

 

    At first Thomas does not seem to notice him at all. Loki’s lips curl into a smirk as he hears the man shuffle around behind him.

    Mortals… are so oblivious to their surroundings. He was not particularly small or easily overlooked in his leather garments, despite him not wearing his battle armour. How could anyone _not_ notice him? The god rolls his eyes up at the ceiling in mild irritation, waiting. He could just spook him, of course… but perhaps that would not be the best introduction if he wants honest answers… he has no intention to scare this man.

    At least for now.

    Curiosity taking hold of him, Loki’s eyes fix on the man’s reflection in the window and he smirks. The mortal looks tired, scratching at his scalp and grunting at the feeling. His hair is _ginger_ , Loki notes, and realizes that he must have been wearing a hair piece all day for filming. The mortal seems completely lost in thought, muttering something to himself before sighing tiredly. He seems just about ready to peel off his garments – admittedly it looks quite good on him, black leathers and green, better than most mortal wear he had seen – when he finally notices Loki standing there. Loki arches a dark brow, head turning to the side. The man seems confused, double-checking the items in the room as if to make certain it was actually _his_ , before he speaks up.

    “Ah… hello?”, Thomas peers at him, looking him over – most likely to try and figure out if he knows him, Loki thinks. “Hey man, I think you’ve got the wrong room.” A pause, and then, warily, “Paul…?”

    The god turns, head tilting back and arms remaining folded behind his back in a show of dominance as he stretches to his full height and peers down at him, “you are mistaken, mortal… on _three_ counts.”

    His lip curls into a half grin, briefly, before he leans forward, his gaze moving down the entire length of the man before him and back up – the man acting as a visual representation of his very might to all of Midgard.

    Hmph.

    He is almost half a head shorter, and Loki isn’t particularly considered _tall_ on Asgard. His emerald eyes pierce light teal and he inwardly snorts. _He looks nothing like him_ , but no matter… his performance is what he is here for, after all… not his looks. “Guess again.”


	2. A Bargain

    It’s been a long day.

   Tom runs his fingers through his real, ginger-coloured hair and scratches, grunting at the feeling because _the wig was itchy_.

 _Dammit Loki,_ he thinks to himself, playfully berating the god, _why can’t you get a haircut for me?_

   He just wanted to peel his armour off and lay down on the bed in the trailer, look over his script – and – if he was lucky, catch a few winks before getting up again later to visit Chris for a drink. He’d promised.

   Tom yawns and shivers, the cold seems to go down to the bone here in Iceland and he rubs viciously at the tip of his nose to warm it, going ‘ _brrr_ ’ to himself before looking up and – _oh_ …

   There’s someone else here.

   His eyes briefly roam to the suitcase on the floor and he wonders what mistake could possibly have been made.

  _Don’t assume._

   But when asked, the man who turns around is… clearly _not_ Paul. Tom blinks at the tall, pale man… he’s got a bit of an arrogant aura about him.  Tom looks as his head tilts back and when he speaks his voice is smooth, silky, like the purr of a _very_ dangerous cat.

   Uneasiness fills the man, furthermore as the tall stranger calls him ‘mortal’. Huh. He’d been warned by several people that things like this could happen… obsessed fans stalking him. Also, he’d been warned to stay off Tumblr. But this man… looks remarkably real… and familiar… even though he had never seen him before.

   Tom swallows as the man looks him up and down; the uneasiness intensifies.

   He feels like a fine species of dog, being observed for suitability. Then the man speaks again, taunting, and Tom blinks, wetting his lips. “I… are you… new? I thought Paul was my stunt double. Look… your costume is very impressive”, he gestures, trying to appear in control… but this man looked like he could overpower Tom easily, throw him down and kill him, or… do whatever crazy fans do, despite them being _nearly_ the same size. He takes a deep breath.

 _Stay calm, Tom._ “Do you want… a picture, or…?”

   Oh… the man’s lips curl up over his teeth and he snaps, “I am not interested in your portrait, do not flatter yourself.”

   Uh… well… _alright then_.

   Tom strangely feels some kind of relief. It was implied that this man doesn’t want to… rape him, or rip his clothes off to sell or something, at least.

   He hopes.

   “Okay… um…”, the Loki-imitator starts circling him and Tom stands perfectly still; if he bolts, ‘Loki’ might pounce. The ginger man swallows and clenches his jaw as the man comes between him and the door, and an image comes up of him locking the door and then coming at him.

   Tom has taken self-defence classes and is a stron man… but… something about this guy makes him… wary… and _curious_.

‘Loki’ does not lock the door and Tom breathes a soft sigh of relief. He hears the raven walking up along the other side and then the man is directly in his face. Tom gasps slightly, his darkened lashes fluttering, but refuses to back down. Fear would only excite the man, he assumes. He stands his ground, the gasp disappearing as he grits his teeth and his blue eyes flick over the man’s face.

A cocky smirk, intense, green eyes. He smells of ash tree but his breath is… sweet. He can _taste_ it. Tom blinks and shakes himself, eyes narrowing, “What do you want?”

‘Loki’ answers him rather quickly. “A bargain, Midgardian.”

   Shit… what could this mean? Tom thinks faintly of the movie ‘Misery’ and his uneasiness twists… but that is forgotten as the man reaches up to run a finger along his jaw. The action is so strangely intimate that Tom blushes, lips parting in what might have been a complaint before it dies as the other speaks again. “You give me all the answers I seek… and I shall let you live.”

   Uh. Woah.

   This guy is… a lunatic.

   Tom gently tries to push him away, inadvertently arching his spine towards him as he tilts his head away, “look, you are _very_ devoted, I’ll give you that, but…”, he wets his lips and pats the man’s shoulder tentatively, “Loki is not _real_. You are not Loki. If you…”, fear sparks in him and he takes a deep breath to dispel it from his voice. “If you try to kill me… the authorities will come after you. Come now.” He stares up at the man with gentle eyes. “Let’s just… leave… and I’ll get you a coffee… and then we can part ways and you’ll have an excellent story to tell your friends. As will I.”


	3. You Need Convincing

    Loki remains where he is, giving the man some time to rack his mortal brain over the situation. It seems to work painfully slow, but the raven wishes to see how long it takes this man until the coin drops without him having to spell it out for him. While he looks Loki over, the god decides he may as well return the favour, and though his expression remains disinterested, he marvels over that messy flock of light ginger hair.

   It makes his face look softer… thank the Norns Loki had not been born with such hair, he would have never heard the end of it back on Asgard.

   The mortal – Thomas, he has to remind himself – looks confused, careful, he can even see a bit of fear in those eyes. Why? If he does not know who Loki is, then why in the realms would he react this way?

   Mortals are not dangerous. Well… with one or two tedious exceptions.

   The raven rounds the man, eyeing his garments. Hnmm… he would wear that… the leather and green. Emerald hues flick back up to fix on the man’s as he finishes circling him, now standing so close he is _definitely_ invading his personal space.

   Ah… brave little mortal, not so frail after all. He does not seem to be the type to grovel easily, to beg for his life. Interesting. Though Loki has no intention of testing that anytime soon.

   He is curious of this one, for he seems to be the only human being… the only _being_ in the realms that _understands_ him. As his finger trails towards the man’s chin the raven can see a blush flourish on perfectly high cheekbones, he sees a slight parting of those lips and his lashes flutter with irritation.

   This Thomas is too _pretty_.

   They must have cast him for his performance alone because Loki _knows_ he looks nothing like this. Nowhere near as… alive and untouched. His lip curls up over sharp teeth when the man tries to push him away, and then there is a hand on his shoulder and he recoils from it in disgust.

   How dare he touch a god!

   Finally, _finally_ he seems to be on the right track, denial having taken the ginger human… but Loki’s hand is already at his throat, because if you touch a god, and then threaten him with ‘authorities’, fortune is _not_ on your side. “I have no need for _friends_ ”, he snarls, fingers tight around the man’s neck as he pushes him up against the nearest wall – slamming him and lifting him off his feet with ease as he stretches his arm up, “I _am_ Loki, of Asgard… and I have come here to get answers!”

   “S-shit—”, the mortal manages to stammer before his air is cut off as Loki squeezes around his neck, making the ginger scrabble at his hand, trying to pry him off, the man’s legs flailing as he chokes before he manages to find some kind of foothold against the god’s belt and pushes himself up enough not to suffocate.

   Loki lets him and smirks coolly, clenching his other hand into a fist – the door locks audibly. The actor blinks, wide blue eyes shooting to the door… and _then_ he starts panicking, breaths coming so fast and hard that Loki can taste it with each inhale. Thomas arches off the wall, struggling against his hold. The god keeps him up with ease and flicks his wrist, the shutters falling shut over the windows.

   Darkness.

 _Good_.

   He feels the man tense, the darkness obviously unsettling him even further and nonchalantly lets go of him, not caring if he caught himself or landed in a heap on the floor and turns his back, eyes glowing dangerously in the half-dark of the room, “now.” His voice is calm, level, and he reaches out to trace a curious finger over the television screen before he turns to eye this Thomas once more. He feels a sense of smugness when he sees the wheels turn in the mortal’s head. Ah… he is slow, yes, but at least he is catching up. Hm, this man does not give up easily… a small part in Loki glows with pride – as little as they have in common, at least this mortal does not sully his name, however briefly he takes it on. “Are you to take my bargain, or must I make you regret you ever learned my name.”

   “Yes, alright… I’ll… I’ll do whatever you want… _Loki_.”

   The god tilts his head, pleased when the mortal finally seems to give in. _Seems_ to, is the word. The raven’s eyes narrow.

   What must he do to convince him?

 _Kill_?

   He snorts to himself – that would only alienate him and the answers would never come from the heart then… and that is what he is interested in. This Thomas… has heart, he can see it shine through teal hues, radiate from him like a vibrant aura.

   “Answers… right…?”

   “Answers”, Loki repeats with a small nod, gaze following the man as he takes off his coat and moves over to the coatrack, “…and do not lie to me.”

   He sounds slightly exasperated, knowing fully well the actor still does not believe him and waits until the ginger’s attention is back on him. “You need convincing”, the god speaks with a tired voice and Hel, he may as well.

   A golden glow surrounds him and his heavy leather garments give way to the lither Asgardian casual wear though at the same time his old scepter materializes in his hand – the one he had owned for centuries. He walks towards Thomas – who seems frozen in place before his eyes widen and he begins to back up against the wall – scepter outstretched in front of him until the tip kisses the actor’s chest, “we cannot do this until you believe me, Midgardian. I need my answers to be _genuine_.”

   The scepter dissolves in a glow of golden smoke and moments later they stand in the half-darkness of the room once more. “Have you no candles? Sit, I have no intention of harming you, not while you cooperate.”


	4. Tell Me

    ‘ _And do not lie to me_.’

    Tom blinks in surprise but doesn’t reply. His honesty depends on the questions. He’d certainly be trying his best not to piss the man off again, but if the psycho asked him where he _lived_ and his sexual kinks or some weird thing like that… yeah, no.

    Besides, ‘Loki’ here was a hypocrite if he thought he was going to be honest with the so-called ‘God of Lies’ he has here with him. Tom carefully acts his face blank as he turns around. 'Loki' looks tired. He sounds it too, speaking as if it was a burden to try and convince a man that you were a mythical god from a different realm. Tom, despite the way his throat still stings and - yep - a glance in the mirror of his dressing room paints a dark picture of himself with bruises lining his neck and eyes that gleamed blue. He looks... bedraggled. He also looks like someone decidedly _different_ had visited his dressing room.

 _Great_. That would be fun explaining later.

   He flicks his eyes back to the stranger because he's... pulled out a flashlight, or something...

   No... wait.

 _What_ \--?

   Tom finds himself frozen in place as the man turns golden before his eyes and there is suddenly shifting clothing, and he... oh... this had to be some kind of--

   ' _Magic_?', taunts the Loki in his head.

   Shit, shit, _shit_ \--

   Tom backs against the wall again and stares at the man as a scepter appears in his hand and he approaches Tom with a patronizing expression. The scepter brushes against his chest and Tom swallows because oh... he is definitely insane. His lashes flutter again and Loki -- yes, _Loki_ \-- speaks across from him.

   A dream, maybe? Maybe it'd be best to just... believe him.

   Until he woke up. “It won't work unless you believe”, is Loki's basic message, and it sounds so like a Disney movie that Tom almost starts laughing.

   But it'd probably be hysterical. So no.

   The scepter disappears -- Tom closes his eyes and leans his head back against the wall, willing Loki away, but then his purr is there again and Tom is forced to open his eyes to look because this is _so bizarre_ that he can't tear his eyes away… and the golden glow provides light. In the soft spark, he can see pale skin, green eyes, long, black hair, and a curiosity in Loki that he can't quite place.

   Then the room is dark again. ‘ _Have you no candles?_ ’

   The question is so mundane that Tom stares at him and feels a crazed grin coming on. No. _No_. The ginger man runs both hands through his hair and when Loki tells him to sit he moves to the bed, not processing it until it's too late.

   But if it's just a dream...

   Then if Loki pounces on him and takes him on the bed then--

   It is _hot_ in this trailer, so different from outside.

   The actor swallows and gestures to the bedside table, his tired mind just accepting this impossibility for now. “I have some in there... help yourself to whatever.” He waves and watches the raven, then stands up again, dancing from foot to foot. “Can I change? This is uncomfortable.” He motions to the privacy screen in the corner (put there specifically by Tom's request, for some reason he'd just _wanted_ one, thank God for urges) and waiting for a yes. The lure of sweatpants and t-shirts, clothes he would never dare let anyone else ever see him in, calls out for him.

   If this truly _is_ Loki, it doesn't matter if he sees.

   Loki seems to relax – at least a little – and he smirks at Thomas from across the room, eyes following his every move. His expression does not change, coldly calculating, but at Tom’s words the god lets emerald hues roam over the actor’s heavy garments, arching a delicate brow at his question. “Do what you must.”

   Tom moves immediately at Loki’s words, feeling more relaxed now that he was believing in this fantasy.

   Wait, wrong word.

   His characters coming to life and appearing in what was effectively his bedroom was not a fantasy. Well, it _was_ , but… not like…

   Oh, whatever.

   He hurries behind his changing screen and quickly strips off the armour, getting into more comfortable clothing; a large grey v-neck and simple black sweatpants.

   “I wish to know your mind… Hiddel… Stone,” Loki continues as Tom dresses, and the actor blinks at the words. Hm… in Loki-speak, Tom equivalates it to ‘penny for your thoughts.’

   He smirks a little at the way the raven mispronounces his name, but decides not to answer until he’s dressed.

   “How is it that you understand what none other seems to… that you _see_ …”

   Tom can hear the man continue as he tugs his shirt on, but it’s muffled and by the time his head pops out he has trailed off. Hmm… Loki must not have been sure of what he was saying.

   Tom steps from behind the screen and peers at the man – err, demigod? God? – who is standing beside the bed. If Tom didn’t know any better, he’d say Loki was feeling awkward… but he knew better. “Tom _Hiddleston_. That’s my name.” He gestures before sitting back on the bed, rubbing his temple. “It’s on the door… but you can’t read English… or can you? Hm.” The actor rubs his eyes again and gives a tired sigh before scrubbing at his face. He looks up at the god and takes a deep breath. “Alright, fire away.”

   “I did not come in through the door and I can read English, I have taught myself, though it is not my preferred language… most mortals make it sound incredibly crude.”

   Loki looks to the bed, then around the room and Tom leans back on his palms as he watches him, eyes half-lidded with weariness.

   They’d filmed a fight scene today… he’d been thrown on the ground sixteen times, hard, on his back. On the top of a volcano. Truly, some of the shots were, _amazing_ … but when Tom’s voice had broken when he’d shouted ‘Gaaahgain!”, they’d called for the day to be over. 

   Loki eventually settles against the wall and Tom smirks to himself; of course Loki would put himself above the mortal… and away from the obviously comfy bed.

   ‘Above such things,’ he’d think.

   Tom has accepted that he is talking to Loki in his subconscious and looks up at the raven with a fair amount of total acceptance. He admires the man’s attire; all black, tight. It makes him look good in all the right places.

   Hmm.

   Maybe this was his subconscious trying to tell him. More black in the outfit?

   Maybe.

   Loki looks ethereal in the candlelight. Tom imagines he looks very inelegant and boring in the god’s eyes, and he straightens a little, trying to look better.

   Then Loki speaks. “I want you to tell me how you got inside my head.”

   Tom stares at him, uncomprehending and Loki scowls slightly at that, so the actor scrambles for words, getting the feeling that    Loki thinks he must be mentally challenged. “I… am afraid I don’t know what you mean. Inside your head?”

   Loki keeps his eyes on Tom, leaning his head back against the wall as he looks down his nose at him and his voice is impatient as he responds. “ _Yes_.” The trickster god rolls his eyes, staring at the ceiling for a long moment, before he pushes off from the wall and makes his way across the room menacingly, arms unfolding. “You understand me… _how_?”

   Tom is faintly amused by Loki’s irritation.

   It’s apparent. He feels like he knows this man, like he could pick out every tick of annoyance he displays. The scowl at his clothing, the eye-roll, the way he said ‘ _yes_ ’. He watches his character approach him, can see the intimidation in his eyes and he lifts his eyebrows at his words, neatly crossing his legs. He knows that Loki appreciates respect but looks down on groveling.

   Loki’s hand twitches in Tom’s direction for a moment and the actor’s eyes flick to the man’s long, pale hand. He swallows.

   Okay… so maybe he appreciates a _little_ groveling… but Tom was not a man to do so.

   He holds his ground, tilting his chin back and Loki is so close now that his knees brush against Loki’s pants. “You do not think me a monster…”

   Tom takes a deep breath, faint amazement in his eyes as he notices the lack of conviction in those words.

   To expose this side…

   He shakes his head and speaks, eyes and voice soft. “I don’t… you’re _not_ a monster. And you won’t be able to convince me otherwise.”

   He would stand, but Loki looms over him like a dominant wolf. The actor looks up into his green, candlelit eyes instead and clenches the bed sheets under him. “You are misunderstood, Loki. A lifetime of disappointment… living beneath a brother who always seemed to do better… unappreciated for your talents, your magic, your intelligence, your wit.” He shakes his head, disappointed and empathizing. “I don’t pity you… but I just… understand. I care because you’re moving.”


	5. Make a deal with Mischief

Tom watches the man and Loki looks like a cat trying to find where the mouse has escaped to; he's searching, eyes narrow and slightly confused, as if he doesn't understand something but is trying desperately to. Loki doesn't say he's lying… which is a relief, because he isn't.

Then a light flickers behind the raven’s eyes, but he makes an incredulous scoffing sound, walking back to lean against the wall once more. Tom breathes in the empty space before him and notices that the scent of a forest that he'd thought had been a candle was gone.

Hm.

“You believe this only because you… portray me… in your cinemacious plays… you sympathize because it is the only way you can convince the audience you are truly me… and _ooh_ what a tantalizing performance you give, you have the realm kneeling at your feet without so much as _trying_ to subjugate them,” Loki says, and Tom is certain he meant to sound mocking, but the gentle quiver in the trickster’s low timbre voice gives him away. The actor guesses that this is far out of the man’s comfort zone, is probably used to cutting conversations like these off with a sly remark and something witty to defer the issue. His voice is deeper than Tom’s own tone, like he’s constantly trying to intimidate, as if he can’t help himself, like he’s controlled. Tom knows that his voice is like that always… except when he’s afraid.

 _Brother, please_ , whispers his head. He refocuses on Loki’s words, on the excuses Loki makes for his empathy and it makes Tom frown faintly, especially when he hears the raven’s soft tremble. “Well… thank you… and I can understand your doubt… but I didn’t even know you existed. It is… mind-blowing that you are real… that you actually went through all that. I’m…” _I’m sorry_ would be the wrong thing to say. He shakes his head and plays with the blanket beside him. “It is not just because I play the part, Loki. I honestly care about you. When I played you in the films, I… _became_ you. I felt what you did, I put myself in your place… I hurt where you did and carried you around in my heart ever since.”

He shrugs, realizing he may sound stupid to this god of his dreams, but not really caring. Loki probably thought he was stupid anyway… and ah, there it is. A snarl distorts Loki’s features, as if disbelief is holding him captive. “You did not know I existed… do you honestly think me foolish enough to believe you would care about someone you did not even know was real?” The trickster seems to take Tom’s words and put them back together in a way that makes sense to him, and oh… he’s got it all wrong. Those green eyes are slightly narrowed and oh, he tries to figure Tom out. He doesn’t think the actor is telling the truth, but still he adds, “I am a God, pain is irrelevant.” And oh… Tom stares at him and sighs softly, shaking his head. Well. It _was_ a dream. best to say what he actually thought.

“I know it _is_ relevant. If pain wasn't relevant, then love would not be so either. Affection, grief, jealousy, joy. You can't feel any of that unless you know pain.”

 Loki doesn't look the slightest bit impressed, though those brows twist, if briefly, and Thomas knows he had at least listened to him. Instead of giving an answer, the raven shrugs one shoulder and moves on. “Have you no questions, mortal? This will likely be your only chance to tempt me into supplying you with an honest response.” The corner of the god’s mouth quirks slightly upwards and Thomas knows that the honesty of his answer depends entirely on the questions he asks. A smirk flicks over his soft mouth at the words and he shakes his head, rubbing his temple – headaches, ah… - eyes crinkling softly. “Oh, please, Loki... as if you'd tell me anything.”

He bends and uncrosses his legs, relaxing into his normal seated position and resting his elbows on his knees before turning to eye his companion. “How did you find me? Eheh, Midgard is kind of a big place. And you didn't even know my name.” He smirks, amused by the look covering the god's expression and yes... he very much misses Loki. The god looks like he is amused at that, as if Tom has only scratched the surface – which was most probably true. The ginger man runs his fingers through his hair at the raven’s almost smile.

Woah. He's pleasantly surprised, can see the way his lips almost curve at the edges and his eyes just... _almost_... but not quite.

Loki instead rolls those eyes at his question, but Tom still counts it as a victory. Ha.

“I am a God, little mortal… mine finding you should not surprise you.”

The actor listens as he's called ‘little mortal’ and, despite the bruises still fresh on his neck, he almost finds it in him to smirk. _Little mortal_ … oh, come on, Loki. You can do better than that. This is a fun dream, all things considered, talking to his character. Granted, being smashed into a wall hadn't been fun, but Loki seemed much more amiable now. “It doesn't _surprise_ me. You're brilliant, after all. And a God, and all that. Hell, even _I_ don't know everything you can do. You've probably been reading spellbooks since you learned to sit up.” He grins at the image and then watches as the raven haired trickster god makes his way towards the bed once more and nearly sits down this time before he seemingly catches himself in the action and freezes.

He stops himself, but Tom easily scoots to make room for him anyway. “Come on. Sit down. I won't bite... and even if I did you could throw me.” He smiles good-naturedly and pats the bed. “I won't think any less of you.”

Tom was pretty sure he wasn't going to attempt to rape him. Probably didn't think his mortal form worthy of such GIRTH and POWER.

He snorts to himself. Damn. He is _definitely_ tired.

“Does your mortal form still require rest?”

The actor flicks his eyes up at him when he asks the question and smiles a little, huffing a tired sigh. “Yeah... it's been a long day. But...” He looks down at his hands, “It's kinda cool talking to you. You know. When I'm not pinned against a wall.”

Ah! Tom can’t help the soft smile his companion draws from him when the god sits down, all grace and hands folded as the raven leans forward and stares down rather than making eye contact. The fact that Loki sits at all is surprising, but pleasantly so. “You should rest… perhaps when you wake we can continue this, as it helps little to have a conversation with with fatigue dazing the mind, Hiddleston.”

Tom blinks at his words. _Hiddleston_ … well, better than ‘puny mortal’ or something along those lines. Tom peers down at his feet, looking away as Loki does, but then he feels the god’s green eyes on him again. He remains still, because to look back would probably spook him. Loki wouldn’t want to be getting comfortable with a mortal, after all. Eventually Loki begins speaking again and the actor figures it’s safe to look at him as he does. “You got over our little scuffle, I see… mh. Enjoy it?”

The grin twisting those lips is entirely too wicked to be ignored and it takes Tom a second until the coin drops, but when it _does_ , he feels a flush crawl up his bruised neck. “Oh! Ehehe, um… I…” He reaches up to brush his fingers over his own throat and swallows. “Well, um… eheh. En- _enjoy_ may be the wr-wrong word… um…”

He swallows again and then watches as Loki downright ignores him and instead pushes himself onto the bed with boots and all, leaning back against the headboard. “Rest and worry not, mortal man, I shall keep myself entertained until you are fully coherent.”

Tom blinks; how will he do that if Loki's... does Loki just expect him to lay down beside the god in bed and... well... he _was_ tired. And if he was lucky Loki might help him doze off. The ginger yawns and smirks wryly as he's called ‘mortal man’, and then, inexplicably, his mind wanders when Loki says he will 'keep himself entertained'.

What did that mean?

Was it just that he was going to be watching TV?

Or... Tom can't help but flash back to that long, rough hand trailing up his jaw.

It'd been an intimidation technique, he tells himself, and besides.

It was a dream.

God. He has to start believing these thoughts.

The god snaps his fingers and the television set flickers to life instantly. The ginger man listens as the TV plays and scoots up the bed as well, laying back against the pillow and shifting, unused to having someone else’s weight on the bed with him. It’d been a long time.

How sad was that? How sad was it that Tom kind of _enjoyed_ having this raven demigod laying – well, lounging – beside him? Hm.

Loki’s gaze flicks to the screen and he scoffs softly at the news, obviously amused by the devastation shown on screen. “As always humans seem to get their facts wrong… whatever does one have to do in this realm for a bit of recognition?”

Tom rolls to his side to curl up, looking at the screen through sleepy eyes. Oh… sadness twines through him as people wander around on screen weakly, picking up things with large, hurt eyes. Flooding and mayhem. Poverty.

Then something Loki says makes his head whip up, his mind playing catch-up. Tom stares at the man looming over him (how had he ended up so close? He scoots a little away) and blinks. “ _Recognition_? What- ... Loki... did you... You can't do that!”

Loki flicks his eyes over from the bed with a sneer, his nose wrinkled up over his mouth and sharp white teeth, and speaks as if to an ignorant child. “I can do anything I please. Have I not proven my capabilities to you? Would you like to meet the wall once more?”

Tom, gulping, frowns, his brows drawing over his eyes, and sits up, wearily rubbing one eye and looking at the god, who stares back, apparently unimpressed and not the slightest bit amused. He doesn’t think Loki will really press him against the wall again… will he? Ngh. The actor heaves a sigh and turns completely around to face him, blue eyes stern. “Look. That can’t happen anymore.”

Loki looks faintly amused, now. “Oh, it cannot?” He sneers again and leans closer. “Do you think you will be able to stop me?”

Nh. Tom knows he couldn’t. Not physically, anyway, considering he couldn’t even kick the man off when put in a chokehold, and probably not mentally either. Loki was a genius, a master of the mind, intelligent enough to weave seamless lies and truth and make it all seem like it fit together perfectly. But the actor knows this isn’t going to work if the raven continues to hurt people, continues to spread destruction and mayhem and death.  He gives the other a long look, and the raven-haired god looks back at him, still smirking and sneering. Then Tom lets out a soft sigh and folds his arms, again scrubbing at his eye with a palm before he speaks. “Look… Loki… I kind of…” He doesn’t want to presume anything, he doesn’t want to overstep and end up pressed against the wall again, and he doesn’t want to spook Loki into leaving. He has to be incredibly careful here. If he pushed too hard too fast… there would be consequences. Painful consequences. And consequences of Loki leaving and going off to kill more people.

The sudden weight on his shoulders is heavy and about the size of a mischief god.

The actor shifts again. “You want to know more about Ear—Midgard, right? You want to know about the people… and… me.” He blushes a little and shrugs one shoulder, “or… at least how I got into your character, right? You want to see… me in action?” He lifts his eyes to Loki’s and swallows (ouch, his throat), playing with his hands and trying to keep his voice steady as he speaks. “I want to show you. I think It’d be fascinating… you’re very fascinating to me…” Loki liked flattery, he thought, remembering earlier how the man had fluttered and smirked a little – and ah, there it was – a faint smirk plays around the trickster god’s lips – “I think we need to come to an agreement. I… I can’t tell you what you want to know if you’re going around killing people. I… That’s against everything I believe in, Loki.”

Loki again looks vaguely unimpressed, but doesn’t look convinced. “I think you are capable of speech. Especially if I demand it.” His voice tingles with the sharp edge of intent. Ngh. Loki was… threatening. Powerful. Tom swallows at him and his eyes get a little bigger but no… no. He wouldn’t back down from this. This is important to him.

“No.” Loki’s face grows incredulous, as if he had never expected this kind of back sass from a random (or not so random, he supposed) mortal before it turns considering, and he frowns at the actor as Tom thinks, his eyes roaming to and fro as he watches the ginger try to muster up words. “You can beat me up all you want, Loki…” Nh, it was scary to say that, because in all honesty he isn’t sure if Loki was more inclined to beat him or pin him right now; those eyes shiver at the base of Tom’s spine. “… In the end you still won’t have what you want to know and then I _really_ won’t tell you.”

“Unless…?” Loki cocks a brow at the man and leans closer and abruptly Tom’s ears go a little hot. Loki did not respect personal space, ngh, when he wanted something. Not at all. The actor blinks back at him and swallows again, wetting his lips and temped to lift a hand to gently press Loki away but somehow figuring that that would be met with either aggression or the temptation for Loki to just push closer. He wanted neither of those things. He’s pretty sure. Ngh. Loki smells faintly of a forest and fresh snow and it makes his head spin a little. Best to keep that away when he was trying to be serious. It was going to drive him a bit mad.

“Unless,” Tom concedes, his voice soft and yet stern, hoping to convey how serious he was about this. “we come to some sort of _agreement_.”

Loki smirks again, green eyes curious and interested in the manner of a man that is eyeing a particularly interesting small animal. “Ooh. Look at you, making _demands_. You are very brave… or quite the fool. Do go ahead then. What is it you want?”

Tom blinks back at the other, sensing a trap and a bit nervous, shifting a bit before he speaks, and it’s quiet. “You can’t kill anyone. Or harm anyone. Ever.”

Loki snorts, cocking a brow and frowning at the other, his hands neatly folded over his knees. “No.”

Tom can sense the finality in the tone and makes an exasperated sound, his blue eyes widening a touch with desperation. “Loki, come on… I’m… I’m a peaceful man, I don’t want people dying if there’s anything I can do to prevent it. And… if I can prevent it by not giving you the information you’re really after, or by ignoring you, or… I’ll do it.” His mind buzzes. This was either the most realistic, difficult dream ever or he was in serious trouble and held the lives of who knew how many people in his hands. Either way he wasn’t comfortable just letting Loki get away with it. Even if it was in his subconscious. Which… loathe as he was to admit it, was becoming less and less possible a possibility. Eh. “Please… I don’t want to fight you, I don’t want to argue. Just… as long as you’re with me you don’t hurt people. Six months. Give me six months… if you’re planning on being around that long…?”

Loki huffs again, turning away and staring at the screen once more, a sneer curled up around his lips. “That you think I would give you my attention for that length of time. You are still just a mortal.”

“But I’m your mortal.” Loki’s head snaps around and Tom’s mouth stammers to correct his misstep. “I-I mean. I play you… u-uhm…” The raven is leering at him and Tom gets the distinct feeling that he is being preyed upon like a cat with a mouse. He swallows, the glint in Loki’s eyes, amused and intrigued, setting his neck aflame and his eyes burning. _Oh, god. Keep talking, make it less awkward._

_Because you’re doing so well at it._

“We’re connected, Loki. I’ve always felt connected to you.”  The ginger blinks and wets his lips as Loki’s green eyes turn considering once more and he speaks quickly, trying to take advantage of what the god was going through. “Six months. What you said… that wasn’t a no, was it? I just want six months of peace, six months of cooperation and you can stay with me. The whole time. I won’t try to make you leave or ask you to go… you can just stay with me. I mean… out of sight of the other people, because… explaining that away isn’t something I can do… I just… Loki.” Tom knows his voice sounds a little desperate as an affronted look shivers over Loki’s face, as if he could not believe that everyone on the planet would not be honoured to meet him, but he doesn’t care, fingers clenching on his knees. “I need this. I need this reassurance. Then I’ll cooperate.”

Loki is staring at him, and Tom can’t tell if there’s any sort of agreement behind those eyes, just the steady green weight, hiding behind a mask of indifference. “I know to you it may just be another foolish mortal need or whatever but I need you to understand… I n-need to know that when you’re with me, you won’t be hurting people… I promise I’ll answer all of your questions. I promise.”

Loki appears to be contemplating this, his eyes green and narrowed. Tom wishes he could tell what the man was thinking, he wishes he knew how to reach inside and know exactly what to say. He still feels very much like prey, and he isn’t sure how great about it he feels. Just the tingle of being carefully watched. “I want to assist you, Loki, I swear… but I c-can’t… I can’t do it with the knowledge that you’re going behind my back and hurting people for fun. If you really care how I feel about you…”

The mischief god’s eyes darken, with interest and with a hint of something else, and it makes the actor’s nape hairs raise and Tom quickly finishes. “…please don’t break my trust. I only want you, a little of your time…. I… you’re immortal, six months can’t be _that_ big of a deal, right…?”

Tom blinks at the other man with big blue eyes, begging for him to understand and needing him to get it. Tom wanted to help. He wanted to give the other man everything he was asking about and everything he was searching for… but he needed this reassurance. He needed… Loki to be sane.

Loki swallows, Tom can see it move in his throat, and he waits, tensed and uncertain.

Finally the god speaks, and it is slow, quiet. “I will deign to cooperate with you. _For now_.” Tom feels relief bloom like a flower in his chest and then freezes as Loki goes on, his voice gaining power and arrogance as he drawls it out. “For six _weeks_.”

Six _weeks_? Ngh. That was… not as great as he’d been hoping. But… Tom couldn’t afford to be choosy or Loki would flee like a startled bird. At least Loki was letting him have _some_ kind of time to keep people safe. Six weeks was better than six days, or no time at all, he supposes. And Loki would, of course, want to do things on _his_ terms. In all honesty Tom isn’t surprised. A bit disappointed, yes, but… Tom would take what he could get. It was a lot less time than he wanted, but it was still time.

Tom swallows and levels his eyes with the raven, biting his lip. The trickster looks as if he knows he has already won, green eyes fixed on Tom and a small, cocky smirk twisting his lips. He seems to dare Tom to disagree, but he wasn’t going to play with fire he wasn’t prepared to handle.

“Alright… six weeks. No hurting anyone… just… peace. You stay here, with me. For six weeks.”

Loki rolls his eyes at his repetition and sighs. “Yes, you have made that exceedingly clear.” The raven’s gaze lands back on him, and Tom blinks under the scrutiny, sensing the power in his next words. “But if at any time I sense I am gaining nothing from this… that you are not giving me the information I desire, or… are insufficient…” Loki’s green eyes narrow. “I will leave. And I will cause all the more mayhem for you having tried to prevent it.”

Tom’s tense body has slumped back into the bed, rubbing a hand over his eyes and blowing out a soft breath of relief. Then he swallows, peeking at the man between his fingers. “ _Promise_.”

Loki rolls his eyes and holds out his hand like a master businessman, green eyes calculating and on the actor’s face. “This is what you mortals do to settle a deal, is it not, Hiddleston? The shaking of hands?” Tom notices the uncertain lilt to his voice even as Loki attempts to hide it behind arrogance and a cocky smirk that slides over his thin lips.

Oh… Loki was so different than how he pretended to be.

Tom reaches out and takes Loki’s hand, feeling a spark of electricity up his arm from the contact, from feeling the brush of godly skin against his own. Fire runs up his skin and into his mind and he turns a soft pink, looking up at the raven with caught breath. Oh. Loki was… he looked tired, he looked bedraggled, and yet… the actor kind of wants to touch his cheek and soothe away the ache. He had always cared for Loki… and even now, in what was real life… this was the man he knew. He felt for him… he wanted to make him better, he wanted Loki to know that… that he was loved.

Loki gazes back at him with steady green eyes, a storm behind a shield.

Their hands clench. It’s like he can feel the twist of magic, the unnatural shiver from him. Tom swallows and withdraws his hand after a moment, at the same time Loki releases him. It feels like there is a buzz against his palm. Tom takes a deep breath.

The two men stare at each other intently, blue eyes on green, before Loki wets his lips and turns back to the television, his green eyes narrowed and obviously a touch uncertain. He looks as if he’d expected a bigger fight, something more damning from Tom. Something to get angry about and give him an excuse to push Tom against the wall again. Tom could probably give him an excuse, but knowing Loki he’d make it more about sexual intimidation than pain this time. He looks faintly like he’d just seen a movie and had been disappointed by the weak climax. Tom stares at him and the raven god notices the scrutiny, turning to sneer at the ginger and frown. “What? What is it? What are you looking at? I thought you were tired?”

Tom blinks and swallows, lashes fluttering at the other man and flashing a small smile, attempting to show Loki how grateful he was even when he felt a bit stung from the hostility. But it was Loki; it wasn’t like it was a surprise, really. At least the other man had agreed to be with him and not hurt people. The actor wets his lips and flashes a more sincere smile, eyes gleaming.

“Thank you, Loki. It… means a lot to me.” The raven makes an offhand snorting noise before cutting him a glance from the corner of his eyes.

“I do not care what matters to you. Sleep and leave me be.”

Tom bites back a smile, and flickers his eyes at the raven before he draws back again, noting the shiver of the storm behind those eyes now again stubbornly fixed on the screen.

Mmh.

He has every confidence that the man will be here when he wakes.

Tom tugs the duvet and sheets over his body and he buries his face in the pillow, nuzzling in and feeling a tingle of Loki’s weight on the bed with him, heavy and reassuring and pleasant in a way. Loki was silent, and Tom snuggles in a little deeper, feeling less pinned down than he had all night, even with his predator at his back.

It felt more like a protector than a predator, in this moment, even as his throat throbs.

Nh.

“Get some sleep if you can, Loki,” he murmurs, and does not hear movement, but continues. “I’ll be awake in a few hours… getting up to go see my friend… so…”

Loki still does not respond, apparently thoughtful now.

Tom hums a soft sigh and closes his eyes. “Goodnight.” He knows it isn’t quite the right word, but falling asleep with someone else… with Loki in the room… it felt appropriate.

He hears Loki give a soft sigh behind him and grunt. “Sleep.”

And so Tom does.


	6. The Science of Tea Making

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which we introduce some UST to this lovely pair..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta** : Thanks so much to [Batsutousai](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Batsutousai/) for reading through this. Life saviour ♥ - you don't want to know what this looked like before, heheh. Mwah x

The man who portrays him must have come back during the night, because when Loki rouses once more, the bed is rumpled differently than it had been when he had first roused. Thomas must have come back in, slept some more… and yet he was still awake before Loki. This is… hmp. Not what he is used to.

The raven pushes up from the bed, running a quick hand through his hair to smooth all the imperfections out with a tingle of magic before turning to look for Thomas, frowning.

The ginger mortal is in the kitchen, once more in his sweatpants and looking as though he had just tumbled from bed, in contrast. His semi-curly hair sticks up in little tufts around his head, like a surprised feline. Loki frowns at his back, quickly rubbing the sleep from his eyes and colour into his face, waking himself up. He makes the mistake of stretching a little and he unwittingly makes a soft grunting sound.

Of course Thomas hears it, and turns his head, sleepy blue eyes brightening. He looks as if he has gotten a good amount of sleep, even though he was clearly sleep deprived. Loki is so confused by him; how could such a tired man continue to be so chipper and bright? He is a walking contradiction and Loki cannot pinpoint his intentions and what he is trying to do, exactly. What is the light in those eyes? It is like a mixture of determination and ambition, as if he had decided that he was going to be happy today no matter what. Loki does not blame himself for being curious about the man.

He is a strange creature, and demanded curiosity.

Loki’s brows draw down when they meet eyes and yet the mortal’s remain unerringly up, open, and friendly. The raven does not understand him. He supposes he has plenty of time to.

Before Thomas can speak, Loki grunts and turns his back, eyes open and faced away from the man as he lays in bed. Hmph. He is not ready to deal with Hiddleston’s confusing chipperness yet. He thinks he would rather lie here for a moment more and contemplate his situation.

Thomas is not deterred. “Good morning, Loki~! I’m glad you seem to have slept well~.”

The god does not answer, just stares at the wall for a moment, deciding that this was still not a topic he wanted to concentrate on. Perhaps it was… it would be easier to simply talk to the mortal now, he thinks, but still does not act. Mrh. Just a few more moments of silence to let his brain truly wake up… and for him to question his own sanity in acting in this manner with a mortal man. What had he been thinking? Thomas basically chirps as he _continues speaking_ , still, even though Loki had not answered. This man was an unstoppable force.

“I don’t have to work today, eheh. They decided that since I kind of, uhm, did a fight scene yesterday, that today I was off the hook.” Thomas winces a little in his voice, and when Loki finally turns back around, the grimace is there for a split second. It takes the trickster a moment to figure out what is wrong, eyes briefly lingering on the bruises that had developed on Tom’s neck (nh… damn) before he lowers his gaze to that slender hand on the mortal’s back. Back pains? Had he done that, too? As soon as Thomas realizes that Loki’s eyes are on him, he brightens again, apparently determined to make this morning a good one. “Just Chris and them today. Oh, they’re my co-stars. I’ll tell you all about them whenever we’ve got the time. If you care.”

Thomas moves around the kitchen and Loki has no idea _what_ he is doing but it is not exactly quiet, or at least not something he was being subdued about, and that, paired with his voice, is eventually what spurs him into speaking, sleep voice still active.

“Hiddleston.”

Gods, he curses it, hoping he can slip out of it quickly enough. He is most certain Thomas is doing this on purpose, and would not stop speaking until Loki finally answers him, and he is quite tired of the inane chatter about mortals he couldn’t care less about. He needed to sound powerful today.

It was time to actually begin speaking… learning.

It was time to get his answers.

It was time to discover more of this man, and all that made him who he was. Whatever means necessary.

 “Oh, you got it right~. Hi.”

Norns. There we go. Chipperness, directly aimed at Loki.

The raven grits his teeth, green eyes narrowing at the mortal’s melodic way of speaking. It was far too early for that. “Did you truly just sing that to me…?”

“Uh… no,” Thomas’ answer seems rushed, not wanting to start things off on the wrong foot, but when Loki doesn’t respond, he gives in. “It wasn’t a song so much as a… eh… musical sentence.”

Great. Loki refrains from pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation, and simply rasps (curse his morning voice) back at the ginger. “That is _essentially_ the same thing.”

The mortal waves it off, lips stretching into a good-humoured grin, which then stretched into an actual _beam_. “Who doesn’t enjoy a song?”

Right. Loki takes a deep breath and exhales. What a mundane conversation. “As long as I am not required to sing along…” He blinks at that beaming ray of sunshine and rolls his eyes. “Are you ever _not_ happy?”

This seems to make the mortal stop with whatever has him occupied there and he places a hand on his hip, those dark auburn brows twisting thoughtfully. “Of course I’m sometimes not happy, but it’s not exactly something I want to advertise, Loki~.”

“Why ever not? It works for me, well enough.” Norns, why is he having this conversation? How does one shut the mortal up?

“I don’t think it works for you… you look much better when you’re smiling.”

 _Smiling?_ Loki pauses and his inner complaints die, giving way to surprise. “How would you know?” He blurts it before he knows to stop himself. Ngh, he showed interest. Damn… but it was too late to take it back now. Thomas seems on a roll, latching on to the question with bright, blue eyes.

“Because you almost did it and it was the most appealing I’ve seen you. Then again, I guess many girls like your _brood,_ ” the ginger chuckles, waving a hand. “Embarrassing oneself just promotes growth, besides, I know what I saw, Loki. Maybe you need some tea?”

What? How did they arrive on that topic? This mortal was like a hare on a particularly strong blossom of red elderberry, bouncing about without a recognizable pattern, grinning, happy… nothing like any of the other mortals Loki had come across since his arrival.

“I have never had tea.” Loki tilts his head back, showing arrogance and posture. Perhaps it helped in making the man back down a little. “I have no need for a hot beverage.”

“You’ve _never_ had tea?” Incredulous, that’s what Thomas seems to be upon hearing the news. “You just seem so much like a tea guy…” The ginger chews on his lips for a moment, and Loki already dreads the words before they spill from the man’s mouth. “Oh, come on… now you have to let me give you a cup.”

Loki gives him a look that hopefully implies just how ridiculous he finds the other’s behaviour, but apparently it needs to be said out loud for the man to take a hint. “You make it seem like a requirement. What in the nine realms makes me a ‘tea guy’, anyway?”

Damn it. He should stop asking questions if he wanted this to end.

Does he want this to end?

Yes. _Yes_.

Of course.

The ginger shrugs lightly at him, smiling amiably. Still so chirpy. “I just mean you seem like, when men pull out their ale, you watch with tea and a clear mind as they all become idiots… or something, eheh.” That laugh. Loki’s eyes flick down to pearly whites, sweetness, everything about him exudes happiness and joy and Loki has to fight to keep himself in this mindset and not smirk at the other in return. “Besides, it _is_ a requirement~… please? You’ll like it.”

Loki tends to find his entertainment elsewhere when it comes to feasts. “Even drunks are a dull sight after a few centuries of such.” He frowns a little, for the mention of something being a ‘requirement’ alone makes him want to rebel and turn the other way… but he is intrigued now. He can always teleport it away if he dislikes it… or empty it over the mortal’s lap.

Thomas is already rambling, however, and Loki lifts an eyebrow at the man, “I guess they would be. I get tired of seeing them already and I’m only 31,” he laughs a little, ever laughing, ever chipper. “I just figured it’d be more exciting, on Asgard. With gods and all. No? Hm.”

He peers at the god patiently and Loki shrugs a shoulder. “If it were all that exciting, I would not have left.” Heh~. The corner of his mouth quirks at the dark jest, but he does not quite smile. Instead, he inclines his head and slowly begins to move into the kitchen area, stepping towards him. “Very well, I will have your tea.”

The mortal’s brightness fades faintly at Loki’s comment. Neither of them think it’s funny, but Thomas already begins to reach out before realizing that it’s a bad idea. He touches Loki’s shoulder anyway, gently. The raven grits his teeth when the man’s motion becomes clear to him and his entire body tenses at the touch, though he forces himself to remain where he is and not vanish. He does not run, he reminds himself, but the gesture is almost alien to him. Why is this man so kind to him, knowing almost every crime he had ever committed? “Probably no fun with them anyway,” Thomas says gently and draws back before Loki can question his motives further. Instead the ginger smiles, tactfully dropping the topic. “Excellent, you won’t regret it. I hope. Wanna watch?”

The trickster hums curtly in approval. “As long as I am not required to make it for you the following day.”

Thomas’ kind blue eyes crinkle and his lips twist into a little smirk, it almost warms Loki’s heart and the raven looks away before it can. “Eheh~… of course not. You’ve never made it before, you think I’d trust you to make _my_ tea? The _gall_.” He winks before turning and striding towards the counter, pulling out his kettle and teabags and dancing in place, obviously waiting for Loki.

“Are you afraid I may poison it? Fear not, Hiddleston… you are far too entertaining for me to get rid of you quite yet…” Emerald eyes sparkle a little with humour as he follows the mortal and idly leans back against the counter. He glances over at the man, one eyebrow cocked at the little dance he does. It is… oddly adorable. Not that he would admit to that. Somehow Thomas seems to have taken notice of his lingering look and breaks into a huge grin, flashing it at Loki before quite obviously fighting to get himself back under control. Mph. Loki’s eyebrows stay drawn together as he watches him… The mortal seems pleased about something, and not knowing about what irritates the god, but he is above asking.

“Ah~! You can… call me Tom. Or… whatever. If you want.” Tom hums and moves quickly to switch on the kettle and fish two teabags from the little box, ever so chipper, and Loki half rolls his eyes again, staring at the opposing wall for a moment. As _if_ he would call him that.

“I know your name, you obtuse creature.”

He leaves it at that, his gaze remaining fixed on the wall, seemingly disinterested. Thomas blinks and makes a face at him, but it fades into a smile. “I know you know. It was just an offer.”

Loki doesn’t acknowledge that with a response and remains silent. The man lets himself be insulted without as much as complaint and admittedly that is… quite dull. There is no fun in poking at something that won’t react. His attention was on the actor, however, he could see him work away out of the corner of his eye and he blinks once when the man begins to talk again, explaining about the tea, “There are lots of ways to make it… leaves, bags. Leaves taste better, but… eh… bags are easier for travel.” The mortal moves to a large box and opens its door, taking out what Loki decides must be milk. “You basically just need water and tea, but milk and sugar compliment the taste.” Thomas turns to eye Loki and the raven haired god can _feel_ his gaze on him. “Do you like things sweet, Loki?”

Something about the question grates at Loki’s old self enough for it to flare up behind dulled eyes and he half turns in the small space, index finger of his left hand tracing the countertop right next to where Thomas rests his hand as he lines his body up with the mortal’s and whispers in all but a purr. “Like you? I would not be so ordinary. I prefer things a bit more… spicy,” _naughty_ , his brain provides, but he swallows _that_ one down. “However… I am not entirely opposed to the odd taste of sugar. By all means… make it as sweet as you.”

It is a lie, Loki loves sweet things, but that is considered a more feminine thing where he comes from. Men drink mead and eat buck, women are the ones to receive sugary treats.

In contrast to Thomas’ lack of proper reaction when Loki had insulted him, when he leans close, when he can smell the freshness of his Midgardian soap and something intensely spicy like warm incense and sandalwood and wormwood and vanilla and even a bit of tangerine… - it is a pleasant mixture… - when he is close enough to smell that, he notices the light pink colour flourish on the man’s cheeks, and _this_ is a reaction he would not have expected from him.

From this close he notices the man’s lashes are a similar red to his hair, just a bit darker. Auburn. They had been black when they had first met… probably to fit his costume… so he would look more like Loki, though the trickster god does not see how that could possibly make a difference… no amount of colour could make the man’s glow disappear.

Loki’s lip curls in slight victory when he watches the man struggle to remain composed, yet his mind must clearly not be on the matter at hand, since he awkwardly reaches for something (sugar, yes… sugar) in the most impractical way that he could have… almost as if he subconsciously was looking for an excuse to lean closer. Hmm.

Thomas seems to mentally shake himself and clears his throat before bravely looking straight up into Loki's face, jaw locked and blush lingering. “What about milk?”

Cute. The raven decides to test the theory forming in his mind and leans down, ghosting his nose so close to the man’s skin that he can feel the heat radiate from those cheeks. “I enjoy milk, too…” His voice remains a low purr, wondering if that had been what made this mortal blush. His index finger slides idly closer to the actor’s hand and just when it makes contact with the ginger’s little finger, he sparks faint magic from his own. “Do you?”

Gods, he can’t remember the last time anyone had been able to entice him into pulling a bit of mischief. This felt… good.

Tom's eyes flick over Loki's face and he gasps at the touch of magic, the blush returning in earnest, which causes Loki’s smug expression to come back.

The mortal quickly looks down and swallows again, seemingly forcing himself to take a miniscule step away, yet still remaining close. Hmm… this has turned into a game with a counterpart that can actually play… much more entertaining.

Loki does not move, he does not so much as blink, his head lifting just a fraction so that he could look down at the man, arching a brow as if to say give it your best… or give it your worst… I can handle both…

One thing is for certain, however… he’ll definitely be using more magic in the future if it unsettles this mortal so easily. When this usually quite loquacious man speaks up again, all he seems to be able to do is stutter a broken sentence at the god, “I, ah.. I do. It t-tastes good... makes the tea better. So... you want some?” Had he broken him? Hm. The ginger turns his face back up and sets his jaw again, as if telling himself to stay cool. He probably thought that if he was going to back down now, Loki was going to take advantage of him, and, well… it may well be possible. “I can get you some. Your tea will be sweet all around. I think you like sweetness more than you wish to admit... don't you?” He smirks, eyes crinkling in that way that makes Loki’s blood pump faster. Those hues, so soft and gentle in comparison to his own poisonous green. Perhaps he could surprise him with another spark of magic while he is drinking his beverage?

Eheh… mischief sparks in his eyes and he tilts his head, taking a decided step back and leaning against the small table that half extends from the trailer wall. He wonders if all Midgardians live in such a crowded space.

The trickster folds his arms, legs stretches a little in front of him as he leans back, purposely making himself seem more relaxed than he feels. “I am certain whatever choice you make, you will do your very best to try and please me…” He waits a beat, then nods over to the tea the mortal is making. “With that hot beverage, naturally. Surprise me.”

Hiddleston seems confused, the god notices with no little amount of glee. This could be more fun than actually insulting or intimidating him directly. It seems the man’s mind is quite active… would he get paranoid if Loki were to… let’s say… _behave_? Eheh.

The trickster nearly catches himself smirking when the actor chokes on his breath at his neatly placed innuendo.

God of _Mischief_ , Thomas.

Thomas smiles a little at the words, apparently enjoying their little back-and-forth. He flashes Loki a smirk and turns to work on the tea once more. “Oh, I’ll give you a surprise…” He smirks at Loki over his shoulder and something in his tone hints at more than just tea… or… no, he was imagining things. Midgardians are a heteronormative race, this couldn’t be anything else.

Thomas reaches to grab two teacups with a grunt as his back pops and Loki blinks, a slight frown drawing at his eyebrows as he hears the mortal’s back crack like that.

Huh.

Humans are so frail.

The raven’s eyes trail down the actor’s back, that too thin shirt really not covering all that much of him… at least to Loki, who is used to layers upon layers of leather and armour – even now, in his casual clothing his black tunic is made up of several layers, crisscrossing over his torso, and so are his leather pants, studded with silver and gold and heavy boots… just… _Asgardian_. More feminine than most warriors would wear, perhaps, but most definitely not baring as much as Midgardians did. Thomas would probably complain about the weight of what Loki is wearing.

The mortal then leans against the counter, resting the weight on his palms and sighs, arching that spine a little to pop his back again with an, “Aaah…” that makes Loki lean forward just a little, lips parting and barely listening to the man’s complaint as he rubs his lower back. “Ooof. I need to see a chiropractor.”

No, he is much too focused on that shirt riding up just a little-- wait, what? He wishes to see a kai-… raptor? Are they not an extinct species? He hums in thought, clearly remembering he had read something about those ancient dragons roaming Midgard centuries ago… the ones incapable of breathing fire – as useless as humans are compared to Æsir. Midgard cannot seem to be able to do anything right. But – he reminds himself – he is here to _learn_ about them as long as he shadows the actor. He had given his oath, after all, and he would not break it.

The god’s emerald hues snap back up when the ginger turns when the kettle goes off. Thomas pours the water into the teacups after dropping the bags inside. “Better to let it settle for a few minutes, if you can; it makes the tea stronger… even though I’m sure you like things weaker than you. Hm.”

With a wink he moves to play with the lid of the milk, arching his spine again to work on that spot in his back.

Ngh. Loki’s gaze follows that arch, he can’t stop himself.

Good _Gods_ , how irritating. If he were to fix it for him it was a purely selfish deed… those gymnastics are not good for his concentration. “There is barely a thing stronger than me, mortal. It does not mean I know not to respect strength… I was raised to. But… strength is not all, which is something Asgard fails to see.”

He speaks with no little amount of bitterness as he makes his way over to him, hand placing flat on the mortal’s back, which earns him a little gasp of surprise, but other than that, Thomas holds entirely still. It’s as if he’s afraid to _breathe_ … though Loki can sense it’s not because he’s scared of Loki. The tension comes from something else.

The trickster had never been the best at healing, but this one should not be too difficult… he had been able to _hear_ him pop his back, after all. As he shivers magic through the ginger in search for what pains him, slender fingers brush down the mortal’s spine and he realizes that shirt really _is_ as thin as it looks.

Hmm.

When he reaches the man’s lower back, he feels it: slight discomfort radiating from one spot and his eyes flick up to fix on the actor’s blue ones, that are wide and fixed on Loki’s face, as if trying to read him, trying to make sense of what was happening.

“Shhh.” Loki nods a warning and pushes his thumb hard against the man’s spine, twining magic straight into that knot for a moment before he rubs soothingly over it. His hand lingers for a moment, before he decidedly steps back once more, leaving a slightly dazed looking mortal alone at the counter. “There. Now would you _stop_ your theatrics and finish making me my beverage.”


	7. Train of Thought

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which Loki confuses Thomas with just how compliant he is, but the actor doesn't particularly mind._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta** : One of these days I'll drive [Batsutousai](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Batsutousai/) nuts~ ♥ thank you so much for reading through this.

Spending time with Loki isn’t as terrifying as he’d feared. Tom smiles down into the teacups, his smile fading into a grimace once he turns around.

Ouch. His back really hurts.

He peeks back as he hears Loki beginning to speak again. “There is barely a thing stronger than me, mortal. It does not mean I know not to respect strength… I was raised to. But… strength is not all, which is something Asgard fails to see.”

Loki actually raises a point he'd like to ask about ("Oh? What else do you value, Loki?") but Loki is _right there with him again_ and he tenses a little, feeling a tingle on the nape of his neck, before suddenly  Loki's broad, long hand is pressed against his back and Tom swallows hard, not certain at all what was going on. He looks over at the raven and opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

He _wishes_ he could say that.

But, instead, a soft groan leaves him as Loki's fingers glide down his spine, tender, almost, and his spine arches under the touch because he's doing some magic-thingy and Tom is very confused.

Anyone else and he'd say they were coming onto him. Because this _definitely_ felt good; his head droops a little and he sighs, arms flexing as he supports himself on the worktop… but Loki must have some kind of reason for this. To goad Tom? Would he think it funny to rile the foolish mortal up and then just observe what he did without a place to put the energy?

Wicked!

Before he can stop himself he purrs out a weak, “Wha-what are you--?”

Loki's fingers find the spot he can't pop and he is silenced only because the god shushes him.

Oh.

He's _healing_... oh.

Well, who was the fool?

Tom wets his lips, embarrassed by himself, and looks over at the Asgardian, carching his warning. Tom relaxes as much as he can and then Loki pushes. The actor's head droops back now and he groans in satisfaction, relief and pleasure coursing through him. The magic stops, but the feeling doesn't fade; Loki's hand kind of... rubs his back and his head droops forward again, peeking at him from the corner of his eye, hips flush against the worktop.

Unnnh~ That felt good.

... The hand. Not the worktop.

... _Well_...

No.

Tom swallows and listens as Loki complains about his 'theatrics', and Tom realizes Loki probably only did this so he'd stop wriggling around.

Tom makes no move to draw away from Loki even when the other steps back, humming pleasantly and gently shaking his head. “I'll... mmm... let it stand minute more... I'm preparing tea for a _God_ , after all. It has to be perfect.”

Right, of all the things that would happen next, he did not expect for Loki to draw closer again, hand almost soothingly rubbing his lower back and his thumb circling the spot he had just healed. He hums and shifts a little, feeling his shirt move up under Loki's hand. “At least you are fully aware of the company you keep.”

The actor shoots the man a hopeful look, fighting the blush from staining his cheeks once more. “I, uh. Thank you. That... feels a lot better. You're... brilliant. I wish I had magic. No more chiropractors for me. Ah.”

As he peeks over after the soft haze of magic-induced healing, Loki is smiling. It's small, but definitely there, and Tom thinks back to what he'd been doing to possibly create this effect.

Hm. Maybe Loki just liked feeling appreciated? Tom would keep that in mind. He smiles softly when Loki snaps his eyes away to the worktop.

Huh. So it _was_ possible for the trickster to get flustered. Hmmm. Tom doesn't know _why_ he is, but whatever. He's just glad he got to see him smile, however brief and small. With the appreciation bit in mind, Tom rumbles out a purr as Loki continues to rub his back. “If I make you tea again, will you do that again sometime?”

It feels really good... his head droops as he talks, his shoulders relaxing, and he feels kind of like resting on his elbows and arching his spine, incentive for Loki to keep going, but the logical part of his brain makes an incredulous sound and so he refrains from doing so, but Loki seems very pleased with the idea that Tom wants magic. He grins and it's _real_ and it doesn't even seem like he's trying to hide it.

Tom beams right back, very pleased, but then Loki answers, his voice all predatory and feline, low purrs which slide the tension back into Tom’s form, “That depends on how delightful you make it…” Tom feels a blush creep up his neck and his ears go hot as the raven trails his fingers lower, and they’re at the base of his spine, still protected by his shirt – _barely_ , if he moved another half an inch he'd be touching skin. He swallows, and then Loki is speaking again and this is so _bizarre_ , so very bizarre, but it feels so good, so very _good_... “If you please me enough, you will learn that there is a lot more where this comes from.”

God, he's so _suggestive_. He doesn't even sound like he's _attempting_ to talk about tea anymore.

If possible, Tom blushes harder, and he's about to start up the nervous giggling that always happens to him (dammit!) whenever things get suggestive, but suddenly Loki twines magic into him again and it twists and twines down his spine to shiver in a decidedly intimate zone and Tom groans again, fingers digging into the worktop and hips arching backwards, _holy shit, holy shit, it’s like his body is out of control._

His hips tilt backwards like a cat’s, trying to push into the magic, and embarrassment floods the ginger, knowing very well that he looks like he’s _asking_ for ‘a lot more where this comes from’.

Well. This is definitely something he has never done before ever.

Check that off the bucket list.

Well. Add it to the bucket list.

Then check it off.

Because he's done it. He's been aroused by his own character. Tom is embarrassed and yet he can't stop it. Loki looks amused, and when Tom's hips push outwards, seeking... Loki does something with his magic to kind of push him forward. His front is flush against the worktop and he shifts and his lashes flutter because this is cruel, even if that resistance was exactly what his body wanted, like he was being pushed against-...

He quits that train of thought quickly and takes a deep breath, attempting to calm himself.

It doesn't work. Loki's got him under his... spell.

Oh God, how corny.

Damn. It. He swallows and holds the position with a tremble of his thighs before turning pleading eyes on the raven. “L-Loki, ah~…” Saying Loki’s name somehow changed the trickster’s expression, too. Tom can see the man's pupils grow and can taste the sweetness of his breath as he leans closer with a purr that has him shiver. His lashes flutter at the allure of Loki’s magic and he feels decidedly like he has just been chosen as the target for a very long game of cat and mouse. If this was some game Loki was trying to play, then Tom was a pawn, but the raven himself doesn't seem to realize that he's in this game just as much as the weak-willed mortal is.

Tom almost tilts his head up, almost purrs back, hypnotized, when the kettle clicks like it always does as the water cools down again. It causes Tom to jump, his pupils – which are definitely _not_ blown (oh, he hopes) – flicking over to the teacups and he grabs for them, unwilling to leave Loki’s touch and so having to stretch because he’s _pathetic_ and even though it’s very strange, somehow probably _alarmingly kinky_ , it still feels good and it’s been so long…

Loki is persistent, Tom will give him that. He'd always known Loki was stubborn… or well… the character… and the God he studied… but this Loki… the _real_ one, turned out to be no different.

Those long, delicate fingers move down _lower_ and it's _right_ on the spot where Tom feels like there's an itch that needs a good, long, hard scratch, the base of his spine, _right_ there. The trickster starts pumping more magic into him, and though it doesn't feel quite the same, not as... unnnh~, it still feels good. The raven must have changed the frequency, or whatever one calls it when it was magic. It was no longer intended to arouse him, Tom could tell.

His toes curl even so and his breath hitches noticeably, but he ignores it.

Tom wets his lips and chews at them, fishing out the teabags and draining them, tossing them onto a saucer rather than leaving to throw them into the bin. Once successful, he grabs the sugar and milk, then looks at Loki again, blush still painfully hot on his cheeks because he’s still all arched up. Ngh. The trickster looks back at him as if he’s acting silly… and yet here they are, and Loki is touching him even though he flinched away or tensed whenever the actor had tried to do so to the raven. Here they are, mouths a few inches apart and the god pulsing some kind of delicious, _YES_ kind of feeling into him, and they’re going to drink tea, but the dynamic between them has changed to something else… and now things are different, because the actor likes Loki touching him and Loki knows it.

This is dangerous.

Why was he looking at Loki again? Oh yes. Tea. “You want me to j-just make it like I make mine?”

It feels weird… to speak about tea when this was going on. Loki seems thrown for a moment as well, those dark brows furrowing and drawing up before emerald eyes flick down to the cups and he agrees to sharing a palette with a nod, before he elaborates. “I wish to know your taste…” Tom blinks. Loki was… being… rather… _honest_? He feels a blush on his neck and Loki seems to realize his misstep. “ _Preference_ …” Ah. Tom begins to nod but Loki keeps speaking as if he felt the need to clarify, and that makes Tom think _why_ and _oh_. He can't help but be a bit amused by his fluster. “Of the… beverage,” the raven finishes, and Tom smiles at him and nods, turning his head to make the same cup of tea twice, his chest fluttering a little.

The god, however, apparently embarrassed by his misspeaking, pulls away. Awh… yet, not before he slides a soft, slender finger over Tom's bare skin, just above his waistband.

Tom’s heart jumps and goes into poetic mode.

_Not a touch... but a promise. A desire._

He blinks and then listens as his companion mutters something derogatory, “Does making a beverage always take this long? No wonder Midgardians rarely do anything productive.”

Tom takes a deep breath as his chest thuds and replies quietly, “I usually like to...” Oh... _careful_ , Tom... “I like to take a little longer.” He doesn't look up; if Loki catches the innuendo then... okay. If not, Tom wasn't going to encourage it. The jibe is rather weak, anyway.

“I see.” Loki, however, seems to get his little prod there, and he makes this little rumbling sound in his throat, a _purr_ , and Tom is certain he never made that sound while playing the man.

Noted.

Tom bites his lower lip a little as Loki flicks dazzling green eyes up at him from behind long, dark lashes and responds, voice still a low rumble, “Perhaps you can show me sometime… I am, after all, here to learn _all_ about Midgard.”

Tom had intentionally been suggestive with his comment, so the return of the sentiment makes him smirk slyly right back. He's here to learn _all_ about Midgard, hmm...? Tom flashes his teeth in a grin and dares to run his eyes down the man's body slowly, then back up. He cocks a brow before answering him with a smile. “I'll be sure to remember that…”

Quickly, Tom puts a load of sugar in both cups and enough milk to colour the tea pleasant brown; he doesn’t usually drink it this sweet, but something tells him that Loki will probably like this more than he tried to admit.

He takes a deep breath and expels his tension – though really, that magic-massage type thing had _physically_ relaxed him, even if it had him riled up in other ways. Ways he was suppressing now with images of dead puppies and crying old women. Tom smiles and proffers a cup, eyes crinkled. “It's really sweet... I'll remake it if you don't like it, or add honey, or... whatever you want. I'll fix it…” The actor trails off and watches Loki as he takes his cup and turns away with it, those dark brows furrowed curiously as he takes a whiff of the beverage. Eheh.

It is fun to flirt again. He hasn't really had much opportunity lately. Yeah, he flirted with both genders, even if he did more so with women. It just kind of… came naturally. Sometimes he couldn't help it.

But he couldn't flirt with Chris because he’d only get an odd look (not that he fancied him), and he'd seen the man's baby and she was absolutely _adorable_...

In any case. Having someone to just tease or flirt with was fun, even if he knew Loki was probably just humouring him… and the dead puppies had worked, so he was okay now.

The ginger blinks when Loki speaks up, still eyeing the drink rather than trying it. “Give yourself a little more credit, mortal… if you undersell your beverage like this, no one will ever attempt a sip in the first place.”

“Hm. Maybe you're right. Well then, this tea will be excellent and I know you'll love it.” Tom grins a little and then flinches as he's suddenly left in near-darkness, the lights going out and leaving them in candlelight. There were only four of them in the room, after all, and as he looks over the raven settles himself on the bed.

Tom swallows. He had always used candles to set an intimate tone… or to read by… or to intimately read.

Eheh.

Either way, it definitely made the atmosphere... _cosier_ , and Tom looks at him as he takes a long drink of his tea after a soft blow at it. Hmm, Loki didn't like it too hot , then.

Wait.

_Ehehehehe._

No, focus.

When Loki lowers the cup to rest on his knee, his eyes find Tom’s again. “It _is_ incredibly sweet… but not entirely horrible.”

The actor slowly approaches him and smiles at how Loki seems to approve of his drink, though he stops a foot away, waiting. "It _is_ incredibly sweet..." Tom smirks a little at that, wondering if he's alluding to the actor on purpose. Either way, he likes it, and ‘not entirely horrible’ is clearly a lie.

“Hm… much better…” The god licks his lips and then tries to hide a smirk against the rim of his cup, but Tom catches a flash of it before it disappears. “You may make me some more of this… tea… in the future, Hiddleston.”

Ha~! Tom smiles at him and shifts his weight, taking a sip of his own tea and cocking a brow, teeth flashing in the candlelight. “So. I've sufficiently pleased you?” He smirks and gulps down more of the hot tea, admittedly burning his tongue a little. He gulps and then sets the tea down on the table, chuckling weakly. “Ahh. Hot.”

“There is a lot more to be done to have me _sufficiently pleased_ , you frivolous creature,” Loki retorts and somehow it makes Tom shy and smirk at the same time. He flicks his eyes at the god and hums thoughtfully.

“Well… then you should tell me what I can do to, ah, _please_ you and I'll perform to the best of my abilities. How does that sound?” He grins, wondering if Loki is going to let it end or if he's really going to list the things he likes. “And if I'm frivolous, then you're broody. Eh” With a soft laugh at himself, Tom moves towards his changing screen and fingers the rough hatch of it in contemplation. “Oh, I have to go in an hour or so. Get dressed and face others. I’m not due on set again until tomorrow but there’s a scene I’ve got to go over. Shouldn’t take up too much time.”

Loki doesn’t react to him leaving soon, hm. Well. He had made progress anyway, Tom guesses quietly. He hums and moves over to the bed, falling onto his back behind the trickster with a satisfied groan. He stretches a little, but his back actually feels a lot better.

Hopefully it won't be all ruined by being thrown around again tomorrow... Hm.

On second thought... would that mean more magic?

... Was he wishing pain on himself? Yes. _Yes he was._

Tom rolls onto his stomach and groans into the pillows. “Chris should come over soon to knock on the door and check if I'm here before he heads on set. Just letting you know so you don’t… ah… you know. Um. I have a problem with wanting to go on runs in the morning, so it’s become habit for him to make sure I’m back in time, even though I’m not due back on set until tomorrow.”

“He is… the one who play acts my brother? He would do best not to cross my path.” Loki’s voice is firm and suddenly there is a soft brush of fingers against the tender skin of Tom’s ankle. He expects anything but what happens.

The trickster just… easily starts stroking his skin. Sliding his fingers along the bone of his foot.

The ginger swallows and his lashes flutter a little, because this is not a part of his body usually touched so… sweetly. It's just simple stroking; the easy back and forth of long fingers and soft pads, and before he knows it, the base of his spine is tingling again and his toes and fingers curl a little. “Mmmm… ooh… yeah… he's um, he's a nice guy. We're good friends… don't mm, beat him up…” It feels sensual in the weirdest of ways, or maybe Tom is still riled from the magic. He tilts his head and looks at the raven, hazily smiling. “Thank you, again, by the way. It did help, and felt good.”

Oh. Tom swallows as suddenly Loki seems to freeze and pull back that hand and he misses the contact as soon as it stops, affection for the god swelling in his chest.

Like… actor to character.

Yeah. Sure. He almost regrets thanking him, since that was apparently what made him quit. Loki shifts on the bed and moves to lean back against the headboard, pale face such a contrast to his raven hair and the black linens he wears. Tom peeks up at him and frowns. Loki looks… tired. He hadn't gotten much sleep last night and Tom knew it. He'd woken up and Loki was in the same position he'd laid down in, not once relaxing into the sheets.

What kind of hours did Asgardians keep, anyway? How long were the days and nights? How long had Loki been awake before he’d gotten here? Hmm. Tom begins to think about what he could do to help the man sleep, when suddenly Loki’s hand drops to Tom’s hair, the movement so fluid and natural that he doubts Loki was really thinking about what he was doing, those long white fingers stroking and petting and playing with his short ginger curls.

A content purr escapes before he can help it and he shifts closer, eyes closing.

To know that Loki was probably seeing him as a pet right now really didn't even bother him.

“If Brother throws you around tomorrow, I shall fix you up again…” Loki whispers and he hums, and the raven sounds as sleepy as he looks.

“Thank you,” Tom breathes softly in return, eyes still closed. He loves having his hair played with… it's a weakness. “Mmm…”

“How long will you be gone for?”

Tom’s eyes open at that and the actor shrugs, reaching out to carefully trace a finger down the side of Loki's thigh, tentative, just trying to establish if he was allowed to touch back. Loki’s lashes flutter in response, but he does not open his eyes – when had he closed them? Oh. Definite progress. Loki wasn’t the monster he tried so hard to let everyone see he was, as if attempting to live up to the name he’d given himself upon finding out what he was. Nh, he should stop letting his mind drift there; there was no way he could be certain that the real Loki had lived through the same things. His movies were fiction, after all.

“It varies…” he continues and decides that, yes, he likes this, and he would nuzzle up into Loki's lap if A) that wasn't totally inappropriate and weird and B) Loki almost certainly wouldn’t let him. However… when Tom traces his finger gently back up the god’s leg, Loki actually pulls him _closer_ , the actor's breath now pools against Loki's neck. “If there’s… m-many rewrites it may take a while longer…” He flicks his eyes up at the man again and as his finger continues to trace. Loki’s own fingers tighten in his hair, and Tom can only manage a purr as he feels the soothing tingle of magic sift into him. Nmh. His spine shivers with something fierce. “Mmmh~… good…”

Pleased at the response, Tom lets the rest of his hand spread out along the raven's thigh, but before he can really do more than squeeze tightly (and what else was he planning on doing?!), Loki is sliding down onto the bed and Tom has to quickly snatch his hand back before his fingers accidentally brush the danger zone. Loki's hand somehow stays in his hair the whole time, and Tom purrs, but when he does it's directly in Loki's face. “Mrh, you know… if you behave yourself… you could tag along to watch. If you wanted~.”

Whoa. They're close.

Very close.

Like… _Tom can count his eyelashes_ -close.

Loki doesn't seem to realize and remains where he is, and before Tom can muster the heart to give him some space, the raven's fingers move down and start toying with the more sensitive hair on his nape and he closes his eyes. “Mmmh~… hnm…” He has not been treated this affectionately in a long time… has not _allowed_ it… Ironic, that the god who was supposedly so stand-offish and cold would now be almost spooning him if Tom turned over.

“Hn… perhaps…” Loki exhales the words and Tom can taste the sweetness, mixed with tea, and Loki’s eyes are still closed so can’t possibly see Tom's lips part to take it in, which is the only reason he gives himself this.

This is so weird; he's gonna wake up any second, embarrassed and alone.

But for now…

The actor hesitantly reaches to tuck a hair behind the raven's ear, careful, and still feeling those fingers toying in the downy fluff on his neck.

He kind of wants to hug the guy. Pat him on the back, muss his hair.

But instead his finger brushes Loki's cheek as he pulls away and his eyes close again, just… basking in the closeness and maybe… kind of… drowsing back off.

Mmh. _Mmmh…_

Loki pulls at a lock of his hair and Tom swallows, grunting quietly in approval. He, ah… he likes having his hair pulled.

More interesting was Loki's reaction to being touched; he shivers at first, as if he isn't used to being touched in affection and oh, that hurts Tom a little. _This man_ …

But then he _purrs like a contented kitten_. Purrs! In reaction to something a mortal did to him!

Tom tells himself to remember that and then guesses that his touching privileges might get revoked if he pursues… if he squeezes that upper thigh again, letting his fingers curl around to brush along the inside… Tom is obviously sleepy.

He wasn't a few minutes ago. Why…?

“Your brother… here soon…” Loki suddenly mutters and pulls at his hair again. Tom feels a soft "Hrrn" murmured and if the man coming soon wasn't incentive enough to stay awake, Loki's fingers down his neck certainly were. He pushes closer, his hand naturally falling down to his companion's waist.

Tom was an affectionate being. Whenever he was being petted by his bedmate (let's just not even go there), he felt the urge to pet back.

" _This_ pleases me," Loki suddenly says, and it’s in response to something Tom had almost forgotten had been a topic of conversation. God, he probably had to get used to this. Tom can feel the magic in his neck and his spine arches a little with the goodness of it.

He is warmed by the raven's words, inwardly _and_ outwardly (he can't stop blushing!) and now his hand slips down to do what he'd wanted to do earlier.

This may be overstepping a line… but now Tom knows that Loki likes touching him… likes being close… his hand wraps around the back of Loki's thigh and squeezes, once, before he retreats. There. Mostly a safe touch, but Loki’s lips part in a soft complaint. “I demand you… unhand me… im-… ee-… diate-… ly…”

Mmmh.

Interesting.

Loki is half-asleep, of course, but he really doesn't sound like he means what he says.

The idea is only emphasized when he moves closer as Tom lifts his fingers up again to trace the Loki's jaw, touched inwardly by the trickster's sleepiness. He looks like he could actually sleep, and not just fall into that half-dozing, paranoid state he’d apparently been in all night.

Huh.

Maybe… Tom, it's preposterous… but _maybe_ … to help him sleep…

The actor mentally checks the time; he's good at that. Chris usually doesn't show up for another ten minutes or so… so Tom can enjoy watching as Loki sleeps, hopefully. The god probably won't accompany him today and that was just fine.

He can feel the desire for affection pour off of Loki in this unguarded moment, and Tom wishes he could call in sick and stay here in the trailer until Loki woke up… but he can't. His conscience won't let him.

Tom feels the raven's hand drift down his spine, making him shiver at the familiar strangeness of being petted, and it settles just where his spine is tingling.

Oh.

Loki sparks magic into the actor and Tom arches again, and for a brief moment their bodies brush.

Tom freezes… but Loki… is asleep.

The ginger blinks and stares at him as he drifts away and he realizes that his hand had fallen to the raven’s waist again.

He has seven minutes before Chris should get here.

Tom stays where he is until six minutes pass, rubbing the god's waist in as soothing a gesture he can manage. Then, as carefully as he can, he slides from Loki's hold, reluctant.

The actor pulls himself up and moves quickly to the door, and as he opens it there stands Chris, fist poised.

_Timing._


	8. Soft Upon Your Skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Touches of magic and one step too far.

It has been a couple of days since the two have shared tea, and though Loki does his best each time to distance himself from Thomas, the mortal finds a way to get to him time and again. Granted, he is not so reluctant anymore now that he realises he actually does get a good night’s sleep when he falls asleep with Thomas right there and actually… lets himself enjoy someone else’s presence. He doesn’t make it a norm during the day, however, often the trickster hides behind a book and only looks up when Thomas decides to share a beverage or food with him, for no other reason than that he doesn’t quite trust himself around the man.

There is an attraction there and he cannot deny it, however much he tries to.

The raven usually sleeps by the time Tom finally returns from set (the hours he keeps, Norns) and today is no different. The candles are out whenever Loki falls asleep, the magic around him instantly relaxing – all but the ever present wards he had put up to hide himself from view. Hide away from Heimdall and his mother, from Thor and the Allfather and anyone else who may be searching for him. The trickster god dreams of a ginger with a dazzling smile and tender touch, soft spoken words and sweet promises, and hmm, he never wants to wake up from these dreams.

It is at about six in the evening when Thomas returns to the trailer with weary, satisfied eyes, having just finished today’s fight scene, and while he’d been thrown around and pushed and tossed, his smile indicated that the actor knew very well it was going to look cool in the film.

Blue eyes flick over the bed where Loki is sleeping and a fond smile stretches his lips, glad that Loki was able to get some rest now. The actor quietly and quickly changes into a pair of sweatpants and a long sleeve, white shirt. Quietly he moves into the kitchen area to make two turkey sandwiches (it was easy for him to make things in two’s already, somehow not being alone felt… good).

He moves back to the bed and puts a sandwich on Loki’s bedside table and crawls up beside him, putting his own sandwich aside before curling up, weary eyes closing, a hand coming up to rest in Loki’s hair. He plays with the locks quietly and decides a small nap may do him good, but he finds he’s too focused on the feeling of long black hair to doze off.

It’s the mortal’s gentle touches that finally wake Loki from the best sleep he’d had in… years. The last time he he had truly slept like this had been on Asgard… _before_ Thor’s coronation. Odin had been able to keep awake for decades and Loki is quite glad that it had not been quite that long for him as he drifts back into consciousness when he feels he feels something warm slide up behind him; fingers toying with his hair.

Hmmm… the sleep-drunk god is lying still for long moments, then rumbles a deep purr and nudges his head back into the touch, the candles flickering back to life as he blinks his eyes open.

Loki squints at a plate… hm? _Food?_

The ginger had… _oh…_ that is truly kind.

Loki swallows, his mouth dry and he feels the hunger roar up in him… he had not eaten properly for almost as long as he had been without proper sleep… not quite as long, since it was impossible to go hungry in Asgard’s palace.

While he’d gotten a few hours of proper relaxed sleep with the actor here and there, he hadn’t touched much of his food. He’d found out that he definitely _wasn’t_ fond of salad, or crackers, or the odd spicy dip Thomas had offered him, but this… it smelled like… hmm. It smelled less toxic and more like something he could have once had for dinner on Baldur’s boat.

The only reason he does not reach for it now is because he does not want the touches to stop. Not just yet… just a little while longer… hmm…

Once he is fully awake he will have to rebuke Thomas, because he is a _god,_ and the ginger is a mortal.

He would not have a mortal touch him in such intimate a manner, except… it _really_ feels good.

Perhaps he can get away with a few more moments of this. He _is_ still half asleep, he can blame it on that. The god purrs again and turns, one arm draping around the man’s waist and _oh_ , he had not calculated such closeness. His nose brushes the actor’s cheek and he smells… different. There are foreign scents on him now, perhaps the things they had put on his face to make him appear more like Loki? He can also smell someone else there. Usually Thomas hopped into the shower right after he got back, today he’d apparently decided against it. He _had_ said he would be play acting a battle fight today, so physical contact was probably a must.

His heart trembles a little and he tells himself that it isn’t _worry._ He would never worry about a human, but his fingers trace the man’s spine and he casually explores, shivering magic through him to see if he remained undamaged.

Thomas exhales and presses back into his touch with a soft groan that makes Loki’s lashes flutter, though his fingers do not cease their movement. He can feel Thomas slightly tense and knows the mortal must probably be wondering why he isn’t inside a wall somewhere instead of being not-so-subtly checked over. Eheh.

Loki huffs softly when he feels the discomfort radiating from some points in the man’s back and a dark thirst for putting those who did this in their rightful place awakens in him. He swallows it down for now – he had given an oath – and the ginger does not seem quite as breakable as Loki had first thought him to be. His eyes flutter open just a fraction when the man purrs back at him and they are so close Loki could count the freckles on him… _aw_.

They share the same air (he can feel Thomas’ breath on his mouth, mmh) and it is more intimate than he had ever been with another being (some things just do not count). The trickster god tilts his head a little bit, wanting to feel more of the touch and a smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Is this how one says ‘fair morn’ on Midgard?”

A flutter of auburn lashes are his response and he can almost sense the shyness slip over the actor. “Hmm…”, Thomas’ fingers dig in and pull a little. “Considering it's six in the evening, I don't know if I can properly answer that question.”

Well… at least he has found himself one that is not too scared to talk back, though he _is_ evading the question. His eyes flicker down to the ginger’s lips briefly… a smirk… ooh, this would not do. He thinks a rephrasing is in order… perhaps after he fixes him up? Before Thomas can say anything to goad Loki further, the raven’s hand idly slides lower, fingers tugging his shirt up by the seam.

Hm.

The smug expression returns to him when he hears the mortal’s breath hitch and the actor seems eager for this… either it truly does hurt him a lot and he craves relief (from the pain, he tells himself. The _pain_ …), or he enjoys Loki’s touch of magic far too much.

He shakes his head lightly ‘do not mention it’, he warns… because if Hiddleston were to call him on this, he would stop. Digits brush under the mortal’s shirt and he searches for that first spot again, pausing as the ginger’s thumb brushes the skin behind his ear…

Oh… _oh_ … he shivers, emerald hues lighting up a little as he fixes them on those warm teals, still half hidden behind darkly framed lids. Nmm.

“Shhh,” he warns again, just like before, and the magic gathers behind his eyes before he releases it in a strong burst through his fingers, pushing his digits into that tender spot and… incidentally… pulling the man flush against his own body.

 _Well_ … how else would he do it… he was not leaning against a counter this time. Despite his warnings, Thomas moans out softly in response until the sound dissolves into a purr of pleasure. The raven’s lashes flutter when the man groans out against him and he can almost taste the sound on his lips, they are so close and more so, he can feel the man’s spine arch under his touch and that just _does_ something to him. His heart flutters and then jumps violently to his throat when Thomas suddenly slips a leg between Loki’s, stalling all thought in the god.

Oh… huh… what… what… _what_?

Suddenly Loki is the tense one and the flow of magic comes to an abrupt halt. He shivers when those slender fingers scratch his scalp softly, but he cannot relax. This is… _abort this_ … immediately!

This is entirely too new and clearly out of his comfort zone, expression wary when the ginger nuzzles closer, but then the mortal’s hips bump against Loki’s own and the trickster's breath hitches as the actor’s hand slides down along the arch of his spine. He freezes even more, “Ahh… Hi-… Hiddleston…”

He knows not if this is meant as warning or encouragement, he is _so confused_ , but those fingers tug a little against his hair and with a tender release of his breath he accepts it, eyes falling shut, too. There was no one watching… no one… he did well to shroud himself from even the most curious of eyes ( _Heimdall_ ) for he does not wish to be found… so truly… letting this mortal touch him… he can take it. He could control this one, with ease… he would never tell another soul about this, and if the ginger did, his death would come swiftly. He can feel Thomas tense against him in reaction.

Good. He knows Loki is dangerous, then. He hasn’t forgotten.

And no, no, Thomas truly hadn’t forgotten. _Silly human, let him do as he pleases, but now you know his boundaries_ , Tom thinks to himself. Probably a good thing he hadn’t insisted on trying to find his way into Loki’s shirt… as he’d initially planned.

So, snuggling… kind of… when Loki needed to sleep – but no touching anywhere below the belt. He’d been reprimanded about the thigh thing, too, if half-heartedly. As for Loki… as mnay of the fans said, he ‘ _does what he wants._ ’

The mortal obviously doesn’t get the same privileges.

Having that settled, the raven relaxes just a little bit and when Thomas speaks up carefully, “Unnh… lo-lower… another knot… threw me hard…” he hums in response to the ginger’s request, fingers brushing lower in search. Loki frowns and a faint heat colours his cheeks when his fingers hit the waistband of those soft pants the actor is wearing and he can feel Thomas freeze.

Tom wanted Loki to feel free to touch him when he needed it, but… if Loki's fingers dipped past his waistband. _Oh, really, what would he do?_ He couldn't exactly stop Loki if that was what he wanted to do.

But Loki is good.

“Here…?” Loki asks and experimentally sends some magic into him, carefully searching. He lets out a soft breathy laugh as Thomas arches again and groans out. Loki forces the magic lower than that, just to tease, eheh, “Or… lower…?”

Ehehe oooh, the ginger arches and the magic elicits this delicious half groan, half purring sound from the man, but then his shoulders are being grabbed and that leg slides up, up, _up_ and Loki makes this “aahnnn~” sound that nearly has him jump out of his skin in embarrassment, fingers curling against the waistband of the mortal’s pants and his magic shivering hotly into the ginger as his body automatically rolls forward, craving more of that… _friction_.

Oh Gods… what is this.

Thomas shakes his head, too-slow, and huffs in response to his question. “My… your hand is… where… mmhh~” Places are being teased and Tom writhes, lips parting. The mortal is speaking… his hand… what… what is he on about? Thomas writhes and it is delectable and then he makes this sound, sort of moans Loki’s name. “Nngh- Loki— aah~ You…”

“ _Hold_ your tongue, you gullible creature!” The raven growls, rolling them so that he is hovering over the man, pushing him hard into the sheets beneath him while his fingers remain wedged between the bed and this man’s spine, the flow of magic only increasing as he breathes hotly against him, a mere hair’s width away from the other’s lips. He had acted entirely on instinct up until that moment but now… _now what?_

His mind blanks and he just stares down at the man, the need and want giving way to uncertainty as his heart flutters and the flow of magic ceases. Loki is scared… of whatever had taken hold of him, of whatever this is, between him and the mortal… this pull.

He cannot control it… and that… _that_ scares him.

Loki stays there, frozen in place for long moments and then an aggressive snarl curls his lips and he pushes off him, back pressed against the wall a second later. He would disappear… but something keeps him there… something… something… _say_ _something, Thomas_ , he thinks, _something I can rip your head off for, perhaps, or something to help me make sense of this._

_Anything._

Everything about this mortal seems to be inviting Loki in… ugh… the way he reacts to his magic with the most salacious sounds he had ever heard from any man, the way his fingers dug into the raven’s garments, Gods, the way he arched beneath him and just seemed to give… openly… warmly… with his whole heart… without so much as a hint of resistance.

Not even mentioning the alluring glow of his aura, the sincerity and openness in his eyes… trust and truth, and for what?

Loki had done _nothing_ to deserve this… to be treated in such a way.

He had slaughtered this man’s race out of pure boredom (or so he tries to tell himself) and yet this mortal just lets him in.

All these thoughts flicker through his mind as he stares at the ginger from across the room, his palms flat against the wall as if he would disappear through it if the man did one wrong move – and really, he could.


	9. Coming Undone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Loki! Aaahn~” Tom doesn’t want to moan like this, it feels too loud in the emptiness of his trailer...

Oh, God. Help.

Suddenly… it all stops.

The hot breath on his mouth.

The pressing heat of the god.

The magic.

Tom swallows and scrambles to press against the headboard to stare back at Loki.

There is a moment where they just look at each other in realisation, then Tom attempts to stealthily pull a pillow across his lap – for no _particular_ reason, of course. Hmmh. The actor wets his lips and he speaks without thinking. “I'm sorry. I didn't… I… you… don't have to heal my back anymore…” He looks down at the blankets and then back up. “I… that was… hrrn…” This is… too fresh a topic.

He takes a deep breath and wets his lips again. “I… I made you a sandwich. If you're hungry.”

Tom moves to try and get up… but nope nope nope, he can't yet.

Instead he scoots over to his own sandwich and then looks at Loki again. “…Come eat. You've been sleeping all day… surely you're hungry?”

There seem to be a billion thoughts running behind Loki's eyes. Tom wishes he could comprehend even one of them. However, he doesn't seem to say the _wrong_ thing, because even though the raven doesn’t respond verbally, he swallows and that emerald gaze drops to the plate Tom had readied for him. The god shifts and Tom watches those eyes drop lower before the god momentarily blinks out of existence, appearing next to Tom on the bed a mere moment later. It takes the ginger a few seconds to catch on, but when he does, he can feel his heart jump a little in response. So Loki’s pants were uncomfortably tight too, then. He wasn’t the only one affected by this in such a physical way.

Tom nervously shifts the pillow on his lap, eyes soft as he looks over at the raven.

“My thanks,” Loki whispers, and it sounds as if the words sound even strange to himself, but he does have manners, and if anyone deserves them, it is this man. Tom blinks up at him, surprised that he receives thanks for a simple sandwich and he’s… kind of stupidly touched. _Eheh._

No, no, too soon.

The sandwich appears in Loki’s hand and he bites into it hungrily, holding the plate so that no crumbs would fall onto the bed or his own garments. It’s the first food the god doesn’t seem to openly dislike and so Tom eats, too, keeping his eyes on his companion peripherally. The two eat in silence and Loki is finished way before Tom, leaving the actor to wonder faintly how long it's been since he's eaten something he’d actually _liked_.

His heart hurts and he’s glad Loki seems to enjoy this, at least. He’s halfway through another bite when Loki turns his head and speaks up. “I said I would tend to you again if you made another beverage and are in pain. You have made me several beverages and food, you are deserving of this.”

The ginger lifts his eyebrows when the trickster motions his hand, gesturing for him to turn around, and the words make him hastily set the sandwich down, half-eaten, and do as he’s told. The actor sits with his back to the raven, completely trusting him. His head droops with expectation, and he tells himself he isn't going to make any noises.

“It is best we not do it… _this_ … when I first wake, and most certainly not when we are lying down so close to one another. I know not what this was. You said something earlier…” Tom listens as Loki becomes shyer and more embarrassed with every word and this must be who he was behind that façade of pride and arrogance, the trickster god, unmasked.

Oh. Loki talks like they can't keep their hands off each other… like they lack control of themselves. _Well_. No comment.

The ginger tenses gently as Loki suddenly brings back up that answer he'd tried to avoid. "What were you going to say?"

Tom half-turns to look at the man, quiet for a long moment as he thinks, thankful for the fact that Loki lets him. It must be nice to have half an eternity to live, no reason to rush anything. “I… I don't know what I was going to say… but…” Tom hesitantly, _so_ hesitantly, reaches to touch the man's knee as those green eyes flutter closed at his response, trying to reassure him that it isn’t all he has to say. Those green eyes instantly flutter open again at the touch. “I… it was… unexpected… and unlike anything I've ever… but…”

He writes a "T" on the man. “… it was… not… unwelcome.” He moves his eyes up at his companion's and then shyly away when Loki’s lock on his own. “… It was like I couldn't control myself…”

Loki stares at Tom and a foolish sense of something - _hope?_ \- flares up in behind green eyes before he reaches down, long pale fingers wrapping around the man’s warm hand, squeezing once. The ginger freezes, warmth fluttering up in his chest. “This lack of restraint is not purely inflicted on you… I, too, have sensed a loss of control.”

Tom almost smiles – that much is apparent, he thinks, and squeezes Loki’s fingers in return. Before he can really relish it, Loki takes his hand back and the god nudges his shoulder forward again, forcing him to turn his back to the trickster and face away. The actor flicks his eyes down and looks at the hand Loki had held with a new fondness.

He feels a warm pressure on his shoulder and realizes he's being held in place.

Tom feels the god’s fingers brush down along his spine, and while the healing _does_ feel good– “Mmmh…” – he can sense that it isn't the same. This is safe, he tells himself, and acts like he approves.

The ginger ends up feeling _physically_ better, at least. His back is unkinked and he arches up, softly groaning, before he catches himself and his jaw snaps shut. He begins to turn to thank Loki, but…

Oh. Is he getting a neck massage, too? No. A soft finger – Loki’s index finger - is tracing the skin of his neck gently as he writes… one long line up, then down diagonally from the top… and from the middle. The raven is writing something on his nape. Somehow, it feels affectionate, even if it’s just… three lines. Yes.

One… two… _three_.

Tom blinks as he feels a soft pulse upon the third brush of that finger, and then sees green; he feels a blur of… jealousy, disdain, arrogance, superiority. He sees pages upon pages upon pages of words, he sees blue eyes… and at the end he sees a soft golden flash of sunlight… pulsing… warm.

Tom gasps softly and comes back, head whipping around only to find Loki disappearing into thin air. He's gone.

Tom swallows. He, inexplicably, trusted the god… he would behave himself. The ginger man drops his face into his hands and scrubs at his eyes, shoulders drooping now that he is alone.

The actor stays on the bed for a minute, then stands and stretches again, teal eyes soft and confused.

He moves to the TV but doesn't turn it on. He just stares at it for a moment and then turns away, too caught up in his thoughts.

He stands and then Tom moves towards the door.

Out. He needs to get out, out of this trailer and that bed and the thoughts of being pinned and that hot, sweet breath and green eyes and roaming fingers and magic, magic he didn't even know existed before three days ago, and the feel of Loki as his thigh slides up tight between his, and his gasp…

 _Out_.

Tom swallows and pushes open the door. It hangs for a moment and he escapes into the air in just his long-sleeve shirt and sweatpants.

He stands there for a moment, shivering, bare feet planted in the cold grass. He crosses his arms and then looks over to Chris' trailer.

Maybe… The ginger wets his lips and takes a step… but Chris had been thrown around too, today and he didn't have a god to heal him.

Ha. As far as Tom knew, anyway.

His laughter is dry - he has nowhere to go.

Usually he'd just go to sleep. Go lay down and sleep… but… the bed.

With a huff, Tom shifts from foot to foot, cold, sleepy, and very confused… but if Loki comes back and he isn't there he will not be happy. Tom turns slowly and with a sigh retreats back into his trailer.

He sits in the armchair in the corner of the trailer, rests his head back… and quietly eyes the bed.

Tom stares at it for a long time before gritting his teeth and moving, he lands on the bed and lays on his stomach, toes curling.

His eyes flutter shut; Loki glows behind his eyelids. With a soft grumble, he curls into himself and wills. Sleep.

 _Sleep_.

“Hiddleston…”

Tom blinks his eyes open. Oh~ Loki is back. The actor huffs a soft “Hi” and then Loki rests a hand on his curls. He blinks in soft surprise, feeling his heart flutter at their closeness, and then Loki murmurs something else, "Rest~…", and… Tom's lashes flutter as the trickster blows at him. _Oh._ It tastes sweet and woodsy, and then his nose tingles and he sneezes, short and hidden in his hand. _Magic._ “Mmn… sorry…”

Drowsiness hits him and he purrs, sleepiness twining around his head as he watches Loki stand up and start eating his sandwich. A smile curls his lips. “Hey… that's mine…” The god finishes the meal and and Tom couldn't care less.

Agh… he can barely keep his eyes open… he feels Loki move back into the bed and sleepily turns to face him, eyes soft and weary.

The god pulls the blankets up over them and Tom shivers, realising how cold he is thanks to the weather outside chilling him. He stealthily shifts his feet closer, trying to get the raven's body heat and humming softly with the warmth. Loki hums curiously when the man shifts closer, but the god doesn’t push him away. “You feel good… hnnm…” Tom's lashes flutter as he realises they're actually… _in_ bed together.

And the room is dark, now.

He can see the glow of Loki's green eyes and he reaches out to run a finger up his cheekbone, eyes closing as he pulls away. “Mmh… thank you…good night… see you… morning…” He smiles, glad he's back, and scoots a little closer, so he can just feel Loki breathing on him, and dozes off with a soft purr.

There is a pause, before softly, he hears Loki breathe in return. “Fair dreams to you.” A gentle hand slides up to touch the side of Tom’s neck and he hums softly as he dozes off.

“Tomorrow… we’ll do something…”

“Til morn~…”

And with that the pair of them drift into a pleasant sleep.

*

Tom dreams of Joey.

He dreams he's riding the horse, and he smiles, gripping the mane and clinging hard with his legs. He hears the stallion huff and pant beneath him because they're riding _hard_.

They ride and suddenly Tom realises they're on the Bifröst. They race up towards the palace, and Tom readjusts his grip, leaning to murmur in the horse's ear. “Whoa… Whoa, boy… shhh…” The brown horse pants twice and then slows, the hard rocking under the man eases into a trot.

Tom looks up as the gates open.

Condemning eyes fall to watch him, and when he looks down, there stands Loki, wrists chained but muzzle missing. He smirks at the ginger, and lifts his hands shackled to beckon him with a finger, tongue clicking like he's calling a dog.

"Here, Hiddleston…" His eyes gleam. "At least you have experience… mm…" The raven's green eyes glow suggestively and he purrs, grabbing Joey by the bridle.

"Down. _Now_."

*

Tom opens his eyes. Loki is waking. He is sleepy and somehow Tom manages to grin as he feels the raven curl up tightly against him.

He's _… affectionate_. The ginger feels hands slip around his waist and he purrs with soft approval. Loki _had_ basically warned him that he’s more loose when he first wakes up – thing is, so is Tom, and he can’t find it in himself to shift away. Especially not with one of Loki’s legs draped over his… Tom slips his own leg closer and nuzzles into the god’s chest, his hands moving around to brush softly against his companion's back, rubbing affectionate circles and eliciting a purr from the god.

Huh. This feels… different; he has never woken up in the embrace of a man. He’s done things, once, inebriated and not knowing better, after having spent months locked in the same small changing rooms at the Donmar… one night out and he’d ended up in his co-star’s bed… but… he hadn’t woken up like this. He’d done more and yet the morning after had been more awkward than this, to Tom.

This, however, with Loki… it makes him feel warm. Enveloped. There is a safety in this, despite who is holding him being so known for danger. A lazy purr rolls from Loki’s lips, those green eyes still firmly closed, “Nmm~… today… do… something…”

Tom curls closer at the words, resting his cheek against the man's neck and closing his eyes, admittedly enjoying the warmth and when Loki’s arms come around to pull him gently closer, his lashes flutter with surprise. Usually when he woke up in bed with a girl, he flirted, touched here and there, kisses and purrs out compliments, giggles, and maybe repeats the previous night's activities, or instead gets up and makes her breakfast – depending on her preferences – but… eheh, that'd probably be the wrong protocol here.

Instead he just hums and nuzzles close. “Okay… I know a café you would like… eheh. I’ve wanted to go inside, but last time I saw it, it was closed… nm, perfect excuse to go there… mmh… good morning. It’s called Café Loki.”

The god hums as Tom speaks, “M-hmh… sounds… acceptable. I assume I am expected to wear… Midgardian garments, for this outing?” The raven is not fighting his advances. In fact… Tom – whose fingers are now kind of massaging Loki's back – freezes as he feels something soft, warm, and breathing brush his ear. Lips. Those really were the trickster god’s lips. “Café me… mh, this Land of Ice, I may grow to like it, if they worship me so… what do you say, Hiddleston…”

The ginger swallows and hums quietly at the touch, hands slipping down to the small of the god's back and squeezing. At the question, the actor hums out an "Uh-huh" and tilts his head as Loki breathes hotly on his neck. Unnh~.

His hands move to dig into the god's hair, playing with the long strands in mild fascination. Had his hair really been this long? Felt this nice? Tom twirls a lock around his finger and tugs before replying with a laugh. “Hmm… it would seem if you had not promised me, here would be a good place to take. Claim.” He blinks. “…Iceland, I mean.”

“Nm, certainly…” Loki seems to humour him, lips brushing along the side of Tom’s neck until he hits the collar of his shirt. The god settles there and rests his cheek against the man’s shoulder, peeking up at him through dark lashes. Tom can feel Loki's smile, sheepish, and then he can feel magic being twined into him and _oooh_ , _Loki, I thought you knew better_ … he swallows as he plays with Loki's hair, oh.

This… the raven is definitely more affectionate in the morning.

He takes one leg out from under Loki's only to curl it over the god's thigh, tugging him tight.

Now their legs are very much tangled up, Tom's then Loki's then Tom's again, and it feels intimate… just like the rest of this morning.

The actor swallows and starts scratching Loki’s scalp again and he can feel the god shiver lightly in response, pushing ever closer. “I wouldn't try to make them kneel, though. I tried it once, just playing around.” He sighs ruefully. “They didn't understand…”

Loki chuckles softly and wrinkles his nose, “I do what I want, mortal… and I may do whomever I please…” God, those words make Tom’s stomach tighten with anticipation. That was… _awfully_ suggestive. A blush rises in his cheeks and he knows Loki can feel it, since when Tom's embarrassed or startled enough, he blushes everywhere, but Loki proceeds like nothing happened, suggesting something that sounds Icelandic and is probably derogatory.

“You ought to try ‘krjúpa fyrir mér, þú sorglegt skepnur!’… or better yet… we can do so together.” The trickster tilts his head up, eyes glowing, a younger self shining through them. “Just a bit of fun, Hiddleston.”

“As if I could do it without you.” Fuck, the way Loki is looking at him with those glowy green eyes; his body tells him to roll on top and only his brain stops him. _You didn’t just sleep with this person!_

 _You sure didn’t_ , grumbles his body. Tom stops thinking because it won’t do him any good and goodness… there is lust for excitement and fun in those eyes, Loki looks spry and eager. The actor looks back at him, shy, but determined not to look away and thinks that maybe it’s best if he says something here, because this silence... “Eheh, well… maybe… you’ll probably frighten people…” What are they talking about again? Tom doesn’t think it matters. Especially not when Loki begins to work his magic again, tingling up his spine to the nape of his neck and making Tom’s toes curl pleasantly. “Mmmmh…”

Unh. This was not the strictly healing magic from the evening before. Nor was it pure pleasure magic (not that he'd _know_ , but Tom imagined if Loki did pleasure magic the actor would quickly realise exactly what it was… and react accordingly. “Hnn…” For now, his reactions are restricted to a shiver, the hairs on his neck rising, and his grip tightening against the trickster god, who uses that moment to speak.

“I will not harm them… I am bound to my word with a magic oath, Hiddleston… I _cannot,_ unless they were to harm me first.”

Tom flashes a grin as Loki speaks about the "mortals" and his hands shift to stroke his back with a hum. “Hmm. I know… I know you can't _hurt_ them…” A finger comes to trace teasingly around the raven's ear, chuckling quietly. “But I said _scare_ them. They don't know that you can't hurt them.”

“Good… I do not wish for anyone to know, fool, I have learned enough about your race to know they would turn on me in an instant… I trust no one, and my weaknesses shan’t be known to a soul.” Loki’s lips twitch into a sly smirk, and suddenly, the ginger feels a long, broad hand flat against the dip of his back. He blinks, feeling Loki's hips move against him and a flush rising in his cheeks. He gasps as Loki rolls them until he has the Tom heavy on top of him and the actor gulps audibly, lashes fluttering as the raven traces his nose along his cheek, one pale hand finding his hair and goodness… hips against hips.

Their legs are still kind of tangled.

He forces himself to relax, not wanting to make this awkward, and lets himself nuzzle in return, but then he feels… “Unnh… Lo-Loki… ca-ca–…” He shivers and his fingers, pinned behind the god's back, twitch and dig into his shirt. “Mmh…!” Magic. Past his waistband, twining lower and _lower._

“Show me something Midgardian, Hiddleston… I am here to learn your ways, am I not?” Loki keeps talking and Tom struggles to control the urge to arch up and writhe, eyes bright and searching as he stares at him.

“Uh… ah… w-what do you mean…? Som-something Midgardian? Like– hrrrn– now? Like what?” Oh… oh, it feels so good. He shivers and arches back into the magic, unable to help himself. “Unnh~ Loki… mmmhagic…”

“You are a liberate spirit, Hiddleston… think of something…” He feels indignation fill him as Loki almost brushes mouths with him as he speaks, because as strange as this is already, kissing his lips just to tease is _crossing a line_ , and he tries to turn his face away, cheeks red. Dammit Loki, he's pulsing magic and he knows that Tom can't get enough of it, fingers shaking as they grab onto the raven’s shirt as if it were a lifeline… and he can’t, he _can’t_ think of anything and Loki knows it. The trickster purrs something in Tom's ear, deep and seductive even as he insults the actor. “Now, now… do not dare to rip it… this is rare Æsir silk… the _finest_ … something this opulent is not made for the sullying touch of a mortal…”

He's being toyed with, and he knows it, but what can he do now? Pinned by his hands, trapped hip to hip with this ridiculously sensual man and his magic… which is currently coursing through his thighs. He gasps, his legs clamping and tightening around Loki almost involuntarily, and he flushes with heat.

The magic flows to his toes, which curl, and up his spine, which arches, and to his nape, which makes his breath shiver.

"Gratify me… _now_." Loki speaks with a dark chuckle and colours flow behind Tom’s eyes. He yanks his hands from behind Loki's back, but only to brace himself up as his spine arches.

“Hnnn~… Looo~” Ohhh, this is different, this is _different_ , he feels his hips roll and his head droops, spread legs letting his groin rub sensuously, tightly, against Loki's, and his arms flex as the magic stirs at the base of his spine. “Aaah~ hnnn… st-staaah~” The ginger can't stop himself, it feels so good and he is just a man and it's _been a while_ , and before he knows it he's getting hard, and his eyes are wide and pupils blown as he stares down at his companion.

This is wrong. He's being toyed with, prodded experimentally, and Loki is probably laughing at how easily he's fallen prey.

He starts going harder, a little faster, hips rolling, just craving the friction. “Uhhnn… huunh, Loooki, st-stop~.”

Stop, stop, this is humiliating but he _craves_ it, his body wants it, arches and writhes with the magic and his hands move to frame Loki's head, eyes falling half-lidded and teal with want. “St- hnng… moooore~.”

There is an interesting moment when Loki arches up a little beneath him and Tom feels a flicker of petty pride. Because he’d actually made Loki feel good… but that is the last he sees of any real reaction from the god.

Tom moans out; Loki is silent.

Tom rocks his hips into him; Loki shifts a little, as if getting comfortable.

Tom can’t keep himself quiet; Loki traces his cheek and holds his waist, affectionate, but Tom still feels more like a plaything than a human being. Then again, to Loki… maybe that was a step up.

But then–

Tom can feel himself nudging against Loki with each rock forward, the raven’s cock heavy against his own with only a few offending layers separating them,. He can see the dilated pupils, the fluttering lashes, the god’s neck tilted back in surrender as he moans out. “Nnh-!“ It’s short, but it’s there. Loki tries to keep quiet, but he’s slipping. It doesn’t mean anything, he reminds himself, trying to squash his hopes before they leap up. To Loki… as crude as it is… he may as well be an old sock, the kind you toss shamefully in the washing machine when you’re done, wondering what you could’ve done instead. But still…

No “but still” Tom. _No._

Loki slides a hand into his shirt and the writhing actor pushes against it insistently, his body and mind detached from one another.

His body arches up like a drawn bow as he feels even stronger, focused magic, so close and almost hungry, and Tom rocks harder, jaw dropping and heated little sounds escaping him and he can _taste_ the friction, what is Loki wearing, where did he get that, it’s soft, he wants to undress but this is not like the usual times he has.

This is Loki.

Tom stares down at that long white throat and wants to lick it. He wants to sink in his teeth, show Loki, _I can go there_ … but he doesn’t.

Instead he drops his head into the pillow beside Loki’s neck, gasping hard and his hips rolling, and his eyes are starting to roll back because God above it feels so _good_! “Loki! AaaHH, aaahn, hhnHH~” He doesn’t want to moan like this, it feels too loud in the emptiness of his trailer and he feels too loud, awkwardly loud, like he’s never felt, and if someone were to hear him, he wouldn’t have an excuse, either.

The rest of the production people know he’s single.

He swallows and just… what does Loki _want_? If he keeps doing this Tom is going to come and Loki won’t have him to play with anymore. “Nhhh~ AAhh~” He realizes he should proooobably stop saying Loki’s name. _That_ would be awkward to overhear. “J-juuuuust, unnnh, jaaah~ L-let meeee~ Lo~!”

*

The actor pushes against his hand and Loki’s eyes flutter open as he looks on with curiosity, he sees uncensored lust and want as if shame does not exist, or inhibition… oh. The god feels the oddest sense of jealousy flare up in him and it makes no sense, but he wishes he could be so free, so trusting… so _thrusting_ … but the most frightening part is that Loki… Loki had made him like this, right now, it is all his doing… and more so, he _wants_ him to come undone, to hear those sounds from him, he wants to make him _happy_ … thinking he was just dreaming, that he was just bored, that this man was a mere toy, a mere pet to play with… no… the realisation hits him and sobers him more effectively than Mjölnir to the face; his heart fluttering with unknown fears.

It almost makes him re-evaluate what he had considered to be right and true, and suddenly he knows… he _knows_ Thomas could change him if he were to let him get any closer, because as it stands he already is the one mortal Loki would not want to harm.

Oh, he hopes, he prays to the Norns that Thomas does not sense this… and yet… his fingers still spark magic into him, hypnotised by the view and ahhh, he struggles to keep still, to make no sounds, but the mortal is gasping hard and rolling against him and moaning his name and _oh please never stop_.

Loki’s heart is almost beating out of his chest, he can feel it, and it seems as erratic and out of control as his mind, hips twitching up minutely because Gods, he is fighting hard and he knows little gasps are escaping him even so.

Thomas moans out and sounds more melodic than anything he has ever heard, he does not want him to go quiet again, fingers digging into his skin under that shirt, and his jaw falls slack as he leans his head, pressing his nose into those beautiful red curls, nmmmf~… Thomas is groaning into his ear again, and Loki is panting hotly against him as he slips his hand lower, dips his fingers past the waistband of this man’s ridiculous pants… with a low moan of his own he sends a rush of unfiltered and pure pleasure magic into him, hot purple coursing through his veins and as an added twist he directs a strand right up into the man’s brain, releasing serotonin like he had never experienced before.

Oh… Thomas would never forget this… would never forget _him_ … not ever… no one would be able to compare… he would be Loki’s until his final day. “ _Come_ …”

And Gods, Thomas does. The mortal’s face crunches up and he lets out a small, deep cry that has Loki shiver in response. The actor spasms and trembles as he rolls his hips erratically, thrusting through the waves of orgasm he rides on.

The god swallows and blinks as he catches up with his own thoughts, mentally shaking himself. What? No… this… is ridiculous. _Control yourself!_

What would he do with a mortal pet… they are useless, a feline can do more good and would make less of a mess. But he wants… he _wants_ this one, he wants his moans and his touch and those kind, loving eyes… he wants—

The raven gathers up his seiðr and transports himself away before he can continue that train of thought, leaving Thomas alone on the bed, as the candles die around him.

Loki does not go far, not far at all, with a sigh he leans against the bathroom door and locks it audibly from the inside, then flicks his wrist and the water of the shower turns on. The trickster magicks his garments off and groans, making his way under the stream of fresh water, his hand almost immediately falling down to his throbbing erection… because, _damn_.

He’ll have to get rid of that first…


End file.
